


Uncertain Future

by EmPossa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Blow Jobs, Cute, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Large Cock, Loss of Virginity, Maledom/Femsub, Minotaur - Freeform, Muscles, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Priestesses, Romance, Scents & Smells, Size Difference, Slaves, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 62,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26303488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmPossa/pseuds/EmPossa
Summary: An innocent, down-on-her-luck priestess found herself the prisoner of a brute minotaur. Her future seemed grim, but there's something about him...-----This is a slow burn story with *gasp* plot. Quite a lot, but I promise it'll worth your time. The first few chapters set up the story, and the steamy, sexy stuff will come later.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 14
Kudos: 102





	1. Captured

Lara was on her knees, saying prayers to the goddess Verae. She was alone in the temple, the last visitor had left since dusk. After the last prayers of the day, she glanced at the offering for the goddess that the villagers had given from last month. There wasn’t much left, merely a handful of grains in the basket. There wasn’t much when Lara accepted it either. She sighed. The time had been hard for everyone.

After the old king, Wugan the Last, died ten years ago without an heir, and the scheming Court Grand Wizard seized control of the capital and declared himself ruler, there had been ceaseless rebellions. The nobles were furious that the wizard has taken the throne, which they saw as rightfully belong to one of them, and one by one rose up in revolt. The kingdom was torn in half.

The provincial lord here threw his lot with the rebel. At first, the region where Lara lived saw no warfare, thanks to being far away from the capital - the capital was located along the southern coast whereas Lara’s province was further north, just 150 miles from the border. But people here soon had their own problems to deal with. With central authority lost, elves and orcs and other races had begun attacking human settlements, intending to take back their former territories. This drove people away from the northern frontier. Lara had seen thousands of them trekking south through her village, seeking refuge in big cities.

However, another kind of trouble had reached Merinth - Lara’s village. She heard that bandits from the north have been raiding villages, and they’d come dangerously close to here. They captured the villagers and carted them away. Where were the villagers taken to? Probably sold to foreign slavers to work in the mines or, in the case of the women, as sex slaves in neighboring kingdoms. Lara shuddered to think of the fates of those poor people.

For the past month, the people of Merinth had packed up their belongings and moved to the nearest city. Now, only a few villagers were left. Lara had decided to move too. The decision didn’t come easily, since moving would mean abandoning the temple to the raiders.

Lara was born 20 years ago, left by her parents at the steps of the temple of Verea. She had grown up inside the temple and lived with the incumbent priestess, who had taken Lara as her own child. The old priestess has taught Lara everything about a life of devotion to Verae, the goddess of Love, Marriage, and Family, the Mother of All. It was expected that one day she would become the next priestess of Verae, and that day came two years ago when the old priestess passed from old age. Lara had been tending to the temple alone ever since.

After the evening prayers, she cleaned the temple one more time and went to collect her things and put them into a simple sack. This would be her last night here until after it was safe to return. She would leave with the villagers for the city the next morning. It was too dangerous to stay, the bandits could appear at any moment.

Behind the walls of the city, she would be safe, yet Lara didn’t look forward to it. She was alone in this world and had no one waiting for her in the city; Lara could only hope that the temple of Verea in the city would take her in. Otherwise, she could find some odd jobs to support herself. Life in the city would surely be different from the calm and peaceful countryside.

She went to bed that night with a heavy heart. Maybe one day all of this would be over. A new ruler would rise from all the contenders and order would be restored. Then she can return to the temple and continue to perform her duty. People would sing joyous songs in the harvest season. Life would be normal again. Maybe.

\---***---

A loud noise woke her up in the middle of the night. She heard screams amid yelling and galloping outside the temple.

The bandits. They’re here!

Lara frantically got off the bed, grabbed her sack and quietly run to the temple door. She peeked outside. Unknown horsemen were riding from house to house, gathering people up. They’re coming in on her direction.

Lara turned away from the door and quietly ran to the back door of the temple. She carefully opened the door. Nobody outside. Clutching her sack tightly, Lara left her home and run towards the direction of the city under the moonlit sky.

A loud shout made Lara turn her head around. A rider had seen her and was fast approaching. She tried to run faster, but the moment of distraction proved fatal. She tripped on a stone and fell, her head knocked on the hard ground. The world went dark.

\---***---

A loud metallic noise woke Lara up. Her head hurt so badly, she couldn’t look up at first. It took her half a minute to slowly lift her head. Lara was lying on a cold stone floor in the middle of a small room. She touched her left temple and saw dried blood. The room was lit by a small rectangular overhead window. It was morning. She turned her head toward the noise.

“You awake yet?” said a female voice.

Lara slowly became aware of her surroundings. She was in a prison cell. An old woman stood at the cell’s door. The woman had long scraggly hair and a wrinkled face. Despite her age, her eyes were still clear and her gaze penetrating. She stood in a narrow corridor, outside of Lara’s cell.

“Can you hear me?” she said loudly.

“I can. Who are you?” murmured Lara.

“You were captured by the fine gentlemen of Tarok’s band. Ever heard of him?” replied the old woman.

Lara shook her head slowly. There’s no point in knowing: bandits were all the same anyway. She thought of the horrible future awaits her as a slave: sexually abused, or laboring in a city somewhere and dying far from home. Her body shook as she sat up, the only thing stopped her from sobbing at that point was how much her head hurt.

“I see you have become aware of your situation,” remarked the woman. “Don’t be too sad, it could have been much worse. We don’t sell people to the foreign slavers, you know. Our leader, Tarok, hates them. We only deal with the lords of the land. So if you’re lucky, you may become a household servant for some lords. If you asked me, that is much better than being sold to foreigners.

“But now, I would need some information about you. You better tell me the truth, as this will help me find you a new home. If you lied to me, and we have some unhappy customers, then things would be very bad for you.”

Lara stopped shaking. So it was not as bad as it could be, but still, she was a slave. Her future was still as uncertain as ever.

“Hey, you heard me? If you don’t help me, I can’t help you. Tell me something useful and I will make sure you get out of here quick.”

Lara composed herself and stood up. She looked at the woman and told her about herself.

“So, you’re a priestess of Verae. Should have recognized that from the white dress you’re wearing. The soldiers did say something about a priestess. How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty? So young. I guess you’re still a virgin, right?”

Lara nodded. Then it hit her: being a virgin among these bandits would certainly cause some dangerous curiosity. She quickly said, “Please don’t tell them that. I beg you. Please.”

“About you being a virgin? They probably know that already. You’re young and was found alone without a husband. We northerners don’t know much about the cult of Verea, but I remember their priestesses don’t get married early. But don’t worry, the men won’t touch the prisoners without permission from Tarok. You have my word on that,” the old woman said.

The assurance worked, if only a little. So she won’t be raped immediately by these bandits. Obviously, they had to protect the commodity before selling them.

They talked for a little while. The woman’s name was Erika, Tarok’s secretary and advisor. She told Lara about the raid last night, that Lara was the only captive, the others were too old and were let go, but their possessions were taken. Erika said that Tarok’s band set camp inside a small old fort called Millith, which was large enough to house a few dozen soldiers. Lara had heard about it. It was 10 miles south from her village, built to hold the border ages ago, but after the border was expanded, its importance fell and was abandoned. Now Tarok’s band has taken it over and Lara was imprisoned inside its walls.

Erika gave Lara some food to eat and a piece of wet cloth for her head wound. Erika told her that she would serve in the kitchen or clean until they found a new owner for her. She also gave Lara a dingy old dress, the kind typical to a household servant.

“Wear it, it’s more suitable for work than that white dress you’re wearing. No work for you today yet, but you should get some rest. Tomorrow you will be working in the kitchen. And also,” she hesitated for a second, “there’s something you need to do tonight. Tarok wants to spend the night with you.”

\---***---

Lara sat with her back against the stone wall. She was alone. She couldn’t cry anymore. Of course, if the bandits couldn’t touch her, then their master would.

Erika tried to be stolid but budged when she saw Lara’s pitiful tearful face. She inhaled and said: “I know this is hard. Just - just do what he tells you to do. I’m sure he’ll be reasonable with a virgin like you. He’s not a monster. Well, he’s a minotaur-”

Lara didn’t hear anything more after that. The thought of having sex with a minotaur had shut her brain down. She was catatonic.

As sunshine slowly faded from the cell and moonlight started filling inside, Lara prayed to Verae, hoping the goddess would save one of her faithful, hoping that she had not been abandoned, hoping for a miracle to happen.

Night came. The late autumn air howled chillingly through the window bars. Erika walked down the dungeon stairs to take Lara to Tarok. Lara mindlessly trudged behind the old woman. Neither of them said anything during the walk. Finally, they stopped in front of a low stone archway, underneath it was a slightly smaller wooden door fitted inside the stone frame.

“This door opens to a hallway that leads to Tarok’s bedroom. Walk right through it and open the door at the end. Don’t delay. Don’t make him look for you,” said Erika. She looked as if she hated doing all of this as much as Lara. “Just do what he told you. When it’s done, get back here. That small old door over there is the washroom. You can clean up there.”

There’s no way out of this now. Lara walked through the door under the archway as Erika closed it behind her. The silence of the hallway is deafening. She lumbered toward Tarok’s bedroom. Her body shook with each step, but not as much as she had thought she would. After the prayers, Lara had simply resigned herself to her fate. She would endure it, she would do what she had to do, get out, and try not to think about it.

She opened the bedroom door, stepped in and closed the door. The room was not dark: a fireplace was lit and crackled warmly. At the other end of the room, she glimpsed a silhouette of a large bed against the moonlight shining in from the window. A gigantic figure stood next to it, looming over everything in the bedroom.

Tarok the minotaur.

Lara quickly diverted her eyes to her feet. It terrified her to gaze at the beast for too long. It would terrify her if she saw anything unhuman-like since during her short life she had never seen any other intelligent creatures other than humans. Lara suppressed any thoughts in her head as she stood rigidly by the door.

“Come here”, said the minotaur in a deep and commanding voice.

Lara slowly stepped toward him, still keeping her eyes down. Suddenly she smelled a very strong smell in the air. The smell of sex, she instinctively knew.

“Undress!“ His voice boomed again.

Lara slowly stripped naked. The dress slipped off her slender shoulders and arms, dropped past her thin legs and piled on the floor. Lara looked at herself. Her skin was paler than usual, her modest chest heaving with each shaky breath she took. Her shoulder-length hair, which was usually silky smooth from constant care, now a tangled mess. But her face was what changed the most. Lara had a face that her mother called “highborn”; indeed, people who came to the temple usually commented highly of her raised nose and elegant smile. Sometimes while lying in bed at night, Lara entertained the possibility of her being a princess that was kidnapped from some castle and left at the temple, yet a depressing lack of missing princess anywhere kept the thought merely a bedtime fantasy. Now, in front of her tormentor, Lara’s face was a distorted, miserable version of its normal.

After the last piece of clothing left her body, Lara instinctively covered her breasts and her cleanly shaven crotch with her hands. Lara knew it was utterly pointless to do so, yet she couldn’t help herself. She tried to buy her more time by kneeling down and folded her clothes properly, which, surprisingly, Tarok waited for her to do it.

When she was done, Lara stood up and waited, eyes still glued to the ground. Then the sounds of unnatural footsteps echoed through the room as Tarok walked toward her. He stopped in front of Lara and put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her to her knees. Lara was shocked when she felt how big his hand was; it must be more than twice the size of a human hand. The intense smell of sex assaulted her nostrils, making her dizzy. The hand cupped her head and forced her to look straight ahead. Tarok’s obscenely large, half-hard cock was pointing at her face. She knew what a man’s private look like - she used to go to school with the children in the village, and they used to run and play naked under the rain. She also knew that a normal man’s cock had to be smaller than Tarok’s, this thing was about as long as her forearm and as wide as her wrist.

“You are that virgin girl, a priestess of what, Verae, right?”

Lara nodded.

“Huh. It’s not every day that I have a virgin priestess in my possession,” said Tarok. His words sent shivers through Lara’s body.

“Do you even know what you are looking at?”

Lara heard a snicker. She just nodded.

Tarok’s hand turned Lara’s head toward the bed behind him. One other girl was lying on the bed, apparently unconscious but still breathing. Her body was covered with sweat, and she had some whitish stain on her legs.

“See that girl? She’s one of my slaves. I’d already done with her. And now you will clean up my cock. Understand?” said Tarok as he turned Lara’s head back to his shaft.

“Yes,” Lara answered quietly.

“You’re a slave. Refer to me as master.” His voice boomed above her.

“Yes, master.”

“Do you know what to do now?” Tarok asked, not without some amusement in his tone. “With this.” His cock jerked in front of Lara’s face.

It’s not like Lara didn’t know anything about sex. Her mother, as preparation for Lara’s future domestic life, had taught her the basics of bedroom etiquette. It’s the real-life experiences that she lacked. Lara decided to shake her head.

“Can’t blame you. Do as I say then. Open your mouth and put my cock in,” ordered Tarok.

Lara did what he told her. She opened her mouth and tentatively leaned her head forward. She closed her eyes and stopped breathing in when her lips touched his tip. His cock stretched her mouth wide open. She had some trouble putting the tip inside, but after a short wiggle, it went in. When she breathed again, the musky smell was overwhelming. She felt like fainting, but Lara forced herself to focus on her job instead.

“Good, now push your head forward.”

Lara did what he commanded. His hardening cock made it an uneasy task. Lara managed to swallow inch by inch until her throat began to feel uncomfortable. Just barely more than half of his cock was in her mouth.

“Not even half? Pfff, pull your head backwards then,” said Tarok.

And she did. Lara put her hands on his hip to keep balance. His hand stopped her head when she was at the tip and pushed it forward again. She moved with his guidance. She repeated sucking him two more times. But as she was swallowing for the fourth time, Tarok thrust his hip toward. His cock rammed into her mouth and poked her tonsil, causing her to gag. She spat out his cock, fell backwards and cough violently, her eyes teared up from the shock.

After waiting for Lara coughing to subside, Tarok grabbed her head again and forced her to look up. It was then she saw Tarok the minotaur fully for the first time. If she had to describe him in one word, it had to be huge. In her village, she was of average height, and he must be about 1.5 feet taller than her. His towering physique no doubt would bring fear to the bravest knights of the kingdom. Tarok’s shoulder was broad and his chest curved outward like a barrel, his musclebound arms displayed immense power that could probably crush rocks into a fine powder. His stomach looked like it was carved out of a granite boulder. His thighs, which were so large and thick they reminded her of the stone columns of her temple. He had hooves instead of feet. His entire body was covered in a layer of jet black fur, which was thicker on his hands and feet but thinner on his chest and face.

His face was different from what Lara had imagined. Tarok's face, along with his hooves and fur coat, was the only part of his body that didn’t look human. Yet his face wasn’t as monster-ish and hideous as she fretted. He has a chiseled face with a large bull-like muzzle, above his head grew a pair of bull horns that pointed upward. One could find his face more peculiar than frightening, provided that face wasn’t angry. But there’s one special thing about him that captured Lara’s attention more than all the others. It was his eyes. They weren’t the cold, deep black eyes of a soulless monster or the yellow-and-black slit-eyes of fiendish devils. They were blue. And looked human. Lara found herself staring unblinkingly at them, forgetting where she was for a moment until Tarok spoke again.

“You truly are a virgin. That was the worst cocksucking I ever had,” Tarok commented flatly, hunching down so his head dropped close to Lara’s. She could feel his powerful breath on her face. ”Do it again, put more effort into it, and use your tongue.”

Lara snapped out of the weird trance. She got on her knees and stolidly tried again. She swallowed more smoothly this time. After a few times, she was able to maintain a steady, albeit slow, pace, she even swirled her tongue under his shaft. She knew she was doing better than last time when she heard a satisfied sigh amidst the shameful slurping.

“Good, good. Stop being so tense and relax your shoulder. Now do it faster. You might even learn to enjoy this,” said Tarok, with a grin on his face.

Lara went faster. And faster. The sound of her sucking echoed through the still night air.

“That’s better. Put your hands on my cock and start stroking.”

She put her hands at the base of his cock, shifting her body to rebalance herself and resume sucking him. Her trembling hands moved with her uneasy mouth in a rough rhythm of novice fellatio.

“Do you like this?” asked Tarok. He liked toying with his slave, it seemed.

Lara didn’t look at him. She would have enjoyed this if this she was doing this for her husband, not here as a sex slave to this minotaur. Lara couldn’t tell whether she’s doing a good job or not, but at least he didn’t snap at her. More and more satisfied groans from above told her she was doing a decent job at least.

Suddenly Tarok tightened his grip on Lara’s head and forced her to look up.

“Keep going”, he said. The surprise had stopped Lara. She resumed sucking but his hand still forced her to look at him. His eyelids fluttered as an apparent sign of pleasure. His breaths were faster now.

“I’m about to come,” Tarok said and he bent down and looked straight at Lara, the grin on his face made Lara twitched with apprehension.

“And I suggest you swallow all of my cum and not make a mess. Do that or-” His face was inches from hers, she could feel hot air coming from his nostrils. “I might have to punish you”.

Then he plunged his cock into her mouth and came. His first spurt hit Lara’s throat and filled her mouth instantly. Lara couldn’t swallow it in time for the second shot. She choked. He released his grip on her head and let Lara fell backwards onto the floor. She spat out Tarok’s semen and coughed violently. When he had finished, Tarok grunted contentedly and said:

“You failed, slave. And now, for your punishment.” Tarok approached Lara, knelt and grabbed her knees. “You should have -”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he turned his attention to Lara’s face. Her body was a shaking heap on the ground. Even with her face down and hidden by tangled hair, it was clear she was crying. The humiliation finally broke the young girl. Streams of tears flowed down her face and fell to the floor. Lara’s loud sobbing and heaving was the only sound in the quiet night. She has failed to please him and now, there’s nothing she could do but wait for her punishment.

Tarok reached for her and lifted her head. The forceful grip of his hand earlier was now unexpectedly gentler. She saw his face through her teary eyes. The malevolent grin of her tormentor was gone. In one agonizing second, she saw those strange blue eyes again. They were open wide. In her distraught state, Lara couldn’t divine what was going through his head at that moment, yet she found his eyes impossible to look away.

The second passed. Tarok dropped her head and stood up. Turning his back to her, he said calmly, “I have enough for today. Leave through the door that you enter.”

It took her a moment to understand what he just said. The astonishment from realizing what he meant was so much that Lara stopped sobbing. She was free to go?

Decided not to wait for him to clarify, she staggered to her feet, picked up her clothes and limped to the door. She didn’t dare look behind her, afraid that he would change his mind.

Lara closed the door behind her. Questions flew through her head as she walked down the corridor. What was that all about? Why did he let her go?

Lara stopped and leaned on the wall to steady herself. She wiped the tears off her face. She couldn’t understand it. But whatever the reason, he had spared her tonight.

She remembered about Verea. The goddess didn’t abandon her tonight. Maybe it was a miracle. Verea would protect one of her faithful. Lara said a prayer to Verea, thanking the goddess for not giving up on her.

It was so cold tonight.


	2. Abused

Lara woke up early in the morning; however, she didn’t get up. Lying in the darkness, she thought about recent events. Everything seemed unreal. It was only yesterday when her world ended - captured by bandits, reduced to slavery. Then last night happened. She remembered it all vividly.

After the entire ordeal with Tarok, she washed herself in the washroom shown earlier by Erika, then went to the servant bedchamber. The bedchamber was cold and damp, the beds were simply a pallet covered in a heap of dry straw on the ground. Thank Verea a blanket was provided, otherwise it would be impossible to sleep in the chilly late autumn night.

Five other girls slept here too. They were already asleep when Lara arrived, and five minutes after she lay down, Tarok came in and deposited the other girl on one of the beds and left.

No one seemed to awake yet. She didn’t recognize any of them. They must have been Tarok’s sex slaves too. A feeling of shame filled Lara’s gut. Much as she wanted to sympathize with these girls, she didn’t want to be with them right now. She didn’t want to be seen as the newest addition to Tarok’s collection of playthings, and the questions, the stares that may follow… Lara decided to get out of bed early. She needed some time alone.

Lara paced alone in the gray cobblestone hallway, trying to find the kitchen. Erika mentioned that all the female captives had two jobs: cooking and cleaning, so she decided to visit the kitchen first. In a few hours, the men would wake up and want something to eat, so it was the logical choice. Even though she didn’t know where it was, it shouldn’t be difficult to find the kitchen, given the relatively small size of this old fort. The cookhouse would usually be situated on the ground floor near the main hall, so she needed to find a way down. As she was turning around the corner at the end of the hall, Lara almost bumped into a person.

“By the gods, you scared the wits out of me,” said Erika, clutching her chest. “You’re the new girl, Lara, right? What are you doing here? Why are you out here alone?”

“I am looking for the kitchen”, said Lara. “You said I am to work there? I can’t sleep, so I just want to get there early.”

Erika gave a look of understanding. ”Can’t sleep, huh? It takes some time to get used to your new circumstances. I’m about to wake you girls up anyway. The kitchen is to the right, down from that staircase. Just walk straight, you can’t miss it. But wait,” Erika grabbed Lara’s shoulder, “you seemed educated. Do you know how to read or write?”

Lara’s adoptive mother, her predecessor, was adamant about giving her a proper education. She said it was becoming with her role as a model lady for other girls and it would serve her well in getting a good husband in the future. Lara, being a little child, didn’t want to study that much, but her adoptive mother stayed firm in her decision. So, to answer Erika’s question, Lara nodded.

“Oh, thanks the gods. Finally, someone useful for me. Come, I need your help. Come. Forget the kitchen, we have too many girls working there already,” said Erika eagerly.

Before Lara knew it, she became the old woman’s assistant. Lara quickly learned that Erika was the one in charge of the day-to-day operation of the camp. She took inventory of the loot from raids, organized the work in the camp, selling any valuable goods to black-market merchants, and most importantly, paid the men. Technically, all the money belongs to Tarok, Erika just distributed it. Tarok’s band was actually a mercenary band, formed in the north and had come south to find work. Raiding for loot and slaves was just their side activity. They also engaged in small trade with merchants and sometimes lords. Money from these sources needed to be jotted down so that it can be explained back to Tarok whenever he wanted to know where his coins had gone. And someone had to write letters too. In addition, with the recent sack of Merinth, there were more things to take stock of. However, Erika couldn’t write very well - the cold weather had exacerbated her arthritis. It was painful for the old woman to hold a pen for long, that’s why she was delighted to have Lara.

Lara dutifully helped the old woman. It took her mind off of her troubles, at least temporarily. Besides, Erika seemed like a decent person, maybe she could even help Lara someday.

“I don't know there is so much managing work for a mercenary band,” remarked Lara. She was writing down numbers and figures from recent raids. Erika had dictated for her the whole time, completely from memory. Even though the old accountant must be at least in her 60s, her mind was still razor sharp.

“… Add that with 5 dozen silver coins from last week. What? Oh sure. Things haven’t been always as organized as it is now. Back then they just piled everything together and let the least thick one do the bookkeeping. Mistakes happen, or the fellow thought he could swindle some coins and get away with it. Anyway, bickering and fighting usually ensued, sometimes deadly. Why do they always have to drink on their payday? So I make my skills known and eventually, I take care of everything. It wasn’t too different from my old job. Can you believe it? All these big, burly men, they act tough and talk loud but can’t even read a letter. I can do loads of things, but I can’t do everything, especially when my hands are killing me,” she ended her rant by massaging her hands. “Damn weather.”

Lara watched as Erika strode towards the fireplace. The flickering flame of the fire pit cast faint dancing shadows on the wall above the wooden bed. Gleams of early morning lights shone through the only window in the room, lazily lit up the small room. The room was barely furnished, with just a fireplace, a wooden bed, a couple of chairs and an old discolored desk. The desk seemed to be the only thing of value here as it was moderately sculpted and it had two side cabinets. It looked like this room was the office of the commander here before it was abandoned along with the fort.

“What was your old job?” asked Lara.

“Hmm?” Erika looked up from her cup. She’d poured herself a cup of hot herbal tea from the kettle in the fireplace. “My old job? Selling things. I used to own a shop in the city of Bariem, up further north of here. Selling cloths and other baubles mostly. Things were going quite well until ten years ago when the old king died. Things got worse as war broke out. Suddenly everybody was fighting everybody else, and nobody bothered to buy cloths anymore. Then the city was besieged. After two months, I decided to sneak out. I was captured by a group of highwaymen, just as I made it into the woods, outside of the besieging perimeter. They took the last of my money and was about to kill me when Tarok’s men surrounded them. Apparently, they tricked the minotaur on some old deal. Awful idea. The fighting, if you can call it that, was mercifully short though. Tarok just walked up, grabbed the highwayman nearest to him by the throat, snapped his neck with one hand and threw his body towards the others. They surrendered immediately.”

“That… wow.”

“Wow indeed. That memory has always inspired me to be honest with Tarok. After the highwaymen ran away, Tarok let me go. The highwaymen’s loot was all goods, which was useless for the mercenary. That’s when I offered my service to Tarok. I told him I was good with money and could sell it for him. He took a gamble with me and I delivered. A couple of years later, I took over all of the money business. Been that way ever since.”

“You must be outstanding at your job.”

“I don’t want to brag, but you can certainly say so.” Erika sipped from her cup.

“Why would you choose to work for him then?”

Erika lowered the cup and looked at Lara. Her trenchant gaze made the young girl shrunk in her seat.

“I know what you’re getting at. I’m a 65-year-old woman. I have no family left. I can’t survive on my own anymore, especially when people are killing each other left and right. This is the only thing I can do. This is the only thing I’m still good at. It’s not perfect. I don’t like the business with slaves, but we all do what we have to do to survive. I wish we could do something else to earn money, but honest work nowadays doesn’t exist anymore. Chaos and utter lawlessness. That‘s the world right now.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t judge”, said Lara apologetically. She turned her attention back to the paperwork. Given the same circumstances, she would never work with criminals to sell people. That was against the very teaching of Verea, of her message of love and compassion.

“You seem like a good girl, Lara. Help me out and I’ll find you a good home. Maybe some lord or lady needs a new servant. You could work in an estate somewhere and then buy your freedom,” the old woman assured her. Lara nodded. She’d rather not be a slave, but for a girl in her situation, that would be the best she could hope for.

“Erika - about Tarok.”

“Yes, what about him?”

“Are you afraid of him?”

“At first. Never seen anything as big as him. The bull head doesn’t help, you know. And the way he breaks people’s necks, or rather, crushes, without breaking a sweat was quite unsettling. But now, not so much. I have worked for him for ten years. He looked frightening but reasonable. Just do what he says, don’t get on his nerve and you’re goo-”

The commotion outside drew the attention of both women.

The loud neighing of horses, followed by yelling and galloping pierced through the hitherto stillness of dawn. It was well into the morning now. Half a dozen men rode out of the fort’s crumbled defensive perimeter and into the distance.

“That’s the scouting party. Tarok keeps sending them out and I can’t tell what they are scouting for. Anyway, let's get back to work. We still have a lot to take note of,” said Erika.

\---***---

“I think we’re done for today,” announced Erika after sifting through the papers one last time. The rest of the day was uneventful, except when at dusk the rumbling noises outside signaling the scout returning. It was a while ago and the sun had gone down. “Please come back tomorrow. Thank you, Lara. I’m really glad that you’re here,” the old woman patted Lara on the shoulder.

“And for your work today,” said Erika. She walked to a drawer by the bed and took something out. Lara realized it was her sack, much dirtier than the last time she saw it.

“Here. It's yours, right? Take it. The men found nothing valuable in it, so you lose nothing.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” Lara grabbed it and check inside. All her belongings were still there.

“Don’t mention it. Go, get some rest.”

Sitting and writing all day had put quite a strain on Lara’s back. She waited until she had closed the door to stretch herself. As she walked, Lara clutched her sack of belonging close to her chest. She felt relief. She got her things back, and she found a companion in Erika. Life wasn’t so bad. There was a reason for hope now.

It was still too early to bed, and she really wanted a bath. So Lara made the trip to the washroom and bathed. Old habits. After dinner, she returned to her bedroom to rest. As she approached the room, she saw Erika walked out of it.

“Oh Lara, I was looking for you,” said the old woman awkwardly. “I’m sorry. It’s Tarok…”

\---***---

Closing the door behind her, she turned around and saw Tarok sitting on his bed. Unlike yesterday, Tarok had clothes on; he wore a loose white linen shirt and black trousers. Lara was slightly surprised to see him wearing human clothes. He was holding a whetstone on one hand and a metal double-bitted axe on the other, and what a weapon it was. Lara estimated that it must be about 4 feet tall and the blade the length of her arm.

Tarok glanced up from his axe and looked at Lara. He stopped grinding, lifted the axe up as if it was a wooden stick and leaned it against the wall by the bed’s headboard. The axe made a loud clank noise when it hit the wall, demonstrating its great weight.

Lara slowly walked towards him. The bedroom was clean and without the smell of sex like yesterday. She instinctively glanced at the bed. It was also tidy and empty. She took a quick look around the room. There was no one else but her and Tarok.

“Come here and undid my buckle,” said Tarok. His voice was the same as yesterday, deep and commanding.

She did as he said while he took off his shirt. While fumbling with his trousers, Lara couldn’t help but admire his strong and muscular body. His abdomen rippled with well-defined muscles. His pectorals were broad and flat. Even the most hard-working men in the village didn’t have a body as anywhere as impressive as Tarok’s.

When Lara had undone his buckle, he dropped his pants to the floor. Lara looked at her feet, not wanting Tarok to catch her ogling him. But he didn’t pay attention to her, instead he sat on the bed with his back against the headboard. Tarok motioned Lara to come forward. Lara stepped toward him.

“Undress and climb on the bed.”

Lara stripped naked again in front of him. As she was climbing on the bed, Tarok said, “Sit on my right thigh.” She did what he wanted, putting her legs between his and carefully avoided touching his penis with her feet. She waited for him to do something, but for a while, he stayed silent. Lara was still looking down, this time at her stomach, to avert his gaze.

Finally, Tarok moved his right hand and gently caressed one of her legs. He cupped her left cheek with his other hand, forcing her to look straight at him. Those curious blue eyes stared at her. His face, like his body, seemed calmer than yesterday.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

The question caught Lara by surprise. She muttered, “Lara, master.”

“Lara, Lara… that’s a nice name. I should have asked last night. How forgetful am I.” He grinned, his hand moving from her face down to her shoulder. “Speaking of last night, do you enjoy it?”

Lara was getting uncomfortable. His smile didn’t make Lara felt easy; in fact, it unsettled her.

“Yes, master,” she lied.

“You have slender arms,” he said, looking straight at her. “You’re a terrible liar, Lara. Lie to me again and I’ll break them. Understand?”

“Yes, master”, Lara quickly said. Her body involuntarily shuddered.

“Calm down. All I want is my slaves to be honest with me. I’ll allow you to speak freely in front of me. I don’t need your flattery or lies. Understand?” he said, still with the same tone as before, slow and commanding.

“Yes, master.”

“So, Lara, do you enjoy last night?”

“No, master.”

“I can see why. I was too harsh to you last night. Don’t think that’s how I treat my slaves all the time. I had a bad day yesterday, so I took it out on you. I was being unfair, that’s why I’ll spare you the punishment.”

“Thank you, master”, said Lara gratefully. She stopped shuddering. She didn’t know what the punishment was and wasn’t sure she wanted to know anyway. If he was being honest, then Erika was right - Tarok can be reasonable.

He didn’t say anything more as his eyes scrutinized her youthful body. Then he moved his left hand down her neck, softly caressing her.

“Has Erika told you what will happen to slaves like you in the future?”

“Yes, master. I am to be sold away.”

“True, but not to the slavers. Other bands don’t care about who’s the buyer, long as they got their coins. You’re lucky you are in my hands, you know. Don’t believe me? How about this? Know about Cygil’s Company? No? Cygil likes to whip his slaves into submission. I don’t think he cares much about discipline, he just likes to whip his slaves. There’s also Gaius’s Gang. Gaius branded his slave girls with hot iron so they can’t run away. He also puts collars on them, makes them walk on all fours and makes animal sounds, strange things. And of course the infamous Barius’s Band. Paris enjoys sharing his girls with his men, every night. Each girl was passed around until she can no longer stand on her legs. Want to know more?”

“No, master.” Lara felt sick.

“I don’t like doing any of that. I want to keep my slaves nice, clean and fed, as long as they obey me, that is. Understand?”

“Yes, master.”

“Good. Tell me, have you ever seen a minotaur before me?”

“No, master.”

“Do you know anything about my kind?”

“Only from the stories they tell the children, master.”

“And what are those stories?” Tarok inquired.

“They say minotaurs live on treacherous northern mountains, away from human settlements. They live in tribes. They’re fearsome warriors,” recounted Lara. Then she fell silent as if she was finished. Lara left out some unflattering details she had heard from the men of her village, mainly jokes about how dumb or filthy minotaurs were. Tarok presumably didn’t want to hear that. She told herself she’s not lying, just strategic retelling.

“That’s all? The other girls here didn’t know much more either. Probably because you southerners never bother to travel up north,” he said. Then he moved his gaze from her body back to her eyes. The unsettling grin reappeared on his face.

“Do you know how minotaurs breed, Lara,” he asked.

“N… no master,” Lara replied, taken aback by the strange question. He moved his right hand, which had been wandering her thigh the entire time, up to her stomach and rubbed it.

“You have round firm hip, and a nice belly too, Lara,” he said and then paused for a moment. “How would you feel if it swells up with some little minotaur inside of you? What do you think, huh, if I pump my seeds straight to your womb? Want to have my younglings, Lara?” he said with a wide grin on his face. Lara was visibly shaken by his words. Her blood ran cold, she couldn’t even breathe. The thought was so vile she couldn’t bear to think about it. She was about to faint from fear when he softly patted her cheek like she was a child.

“Well you can’t, silly girl. Humans can’t breed with minotaurs,” Tarok said, then he laughed. His little joke entertained him greatly.

She looked at him, then down at her feet. Her face turned from white of fear to red of embarrassment. How could she let him make fun of her like that? It was obvious that humans can’t have babies with minotaurs. Cross-race breeding was never a possibility, as was dictated by the gods. Only now she remembered it. He was getting a kick out of making fun of her. However, strange as it seems, she felt relief. He was playful today, even though it was at her expense. But it was still better than the physical abuse she suffered yesterday.

When his laughing stopped, an amused grin still lingered on his face. His left hand moved from Lara’s neck to just above her breasts, then stopped.

“Let me guess, no one has touched your tits before, right?”

“No, master”, replied Lara. She watched his hand intently, bracing herself what’s about to happen.

His hand proceeded downward to touch Lara’s modest bosom. He carefully fondled her breasts and giving her nipples light squeezes. The rough texture of his hand contrasted greatly with the smooth, pliable flesh of Lara's body, which heightened the sensitiveness of her skin. His hand was larger than a normal human’s, enough to cover most of her chest area with ease. Lara bit her lips, trying to hold her breath, but eventually, she let out a shaky gasp.

“Feeling good?”

“Yes, master,” Lara answered. Her hands balled into fists on her thighs. She sat as still as a table while his hands roamed over her chest, yet she couldn’t deny the pleasurable tingling that swept over her petite frame every time his hand made a pass on her hardening peaks. He knew how to touch a girl, Lara thought.

“Tell me about yourself, Lara. Do you have a family?” he asked.

“About… me? I… no master. I was an orphan, abandoned as a newborn on the steps of the temple of Verae,” she said. She noticed a peculiar look on his face when she said orphan, but she couldn’t say what it meant. Tarok remained silent, his hand continued groping her.

“What does a priestess like you do?”

Lara told Tarok. Life in the temple was comfortable. Lara wasn’t alone as people visit the temple for many reasons. Oftentimes, couples would come before Verae and ask the goddess of Love for blessing before they get married. Most of the time it would just be young boys or girls asking the goddess to help them find their other half. People respected Lara, and she was courteous to all visitors.

“How do you become a priestess?”

To become a priestess of Verea, one must be a virgin girl: purity was important. But she didn’t have to stay celibate forever. A priestess could marry after a certain time and pass the job to another. Verea’s priestess was highly coveted by all kinds of suitors for her grace and wisdom, and joining hands with her in front of Verea served as a great honor to the man’s family. Finding the right man is not an easy thing for a priestess. She must make sure the relationship was serious and her husband was the one that she wanted to spend her entire life with. That’s why it usually took a long time for a priestess to get married. Having the right lover and a bear a child would be the best way to show your devotion to Verae. Lara’s mother didn’t marry because she wanted to devote her life to the goddess. When she opened the door of the temple one day and saw Lara crying in a basket, she saw it as a sign from the goddess, that Verea had given her someone to follow her step. So Lara became a priestess.

“That’s all about me, master,” said Lara. She observed that he was paying attention to her story, even showing some interests.

“Do you want a family?”

“Yes, master. That is my wish, to be married and have children.”

“Poor girl. Born to live in these dark times,” he commented.

He was showing signs of sympathy. She could use this to her advantage. Lara gathered her courage and said, “Master, can I ask you one thing?”

He looked up from her breasts. His hands stopped.

“What is it?”

Lara took a deep breath.

“As a priestess of Verea, my maidenhood is very important to me. Please allow me to keep my virginity. I can’t have sex before marriage. I promised to be a good slave. I’ll do whatever you told me to do. I’ll serve your every need. But please let me keep my purity. I beg of you!”

Trunks’ eyes stayed fixed on her face. His face showed no change so Lara couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His silence went on as she grew increasingly anxious. Did she just cross the line? But he did allow her to speak freely…

Suddenly, he dropped his left hand to her hip while he moved his right hand from her leg to her mouth, his fingers touching her lips.

“Open up”, he ordered. There was no change in his tone.

Lara was confused. Tarok’s disregarding her plead was enough of an answer, she understood that. But this abrupt command, what was he going to do? She looked at him, then at the fingers in front of her mouth.

“Open your mouth or it will hurt later,” he warned. She complied with his strange request. His middle and index finger advanced into her mouth, slowly swirled around inside. She didn’t gag because he didn’t push too far in, but she felt extremely uncomfortable. Finally, he took his wet fingers out and lowered them.

“Do you touch yourself, Lara?” Tarok asked as he lowered his hands to her crotch, those two fingers touch her nether lips. She jolted, but his other hands on her hip stopped her from moving too much.

His intention was finally clear to Lara. She nodded grudgingly. Her body tensed up as she waited for him to move. Tarok rubbed her labia before pushing his fingers slowly inside, sending shockwaves through her body.

“How often do you touch yourself, Lara?”

“I did it sometimes before I come of age, master. When I became a priestess, I stopped,” she answered his embarrassing question.

“Why did you stop?”

“Because, as a priestess of Verea I must be, ahh.” She let out a sound as he pushed his fingers completely inside of her.

“Continue.”

“I must be a model for other girls to follow. Masturbation could, um, lead to wanton lust. And I want to focus my… umm… time and energy for Verea, not myself.”

“What are your duties?” asked Tarok.

She explained to him her duties: receiving offerings, taking care of the altar, oversee the wedding rituals for couples in front of Verea, and most importantly, getting married herself. Her speech was interrupted by soft gasps as Tarok’s fingers moved around inside her. It has been a while since she last touched herself. The pleasure was building up quickly. She gripped her thighs to keep balance, her nails dug into her soft flesh. She was not sure she could hold up longer.

“Why is marriage the most important thing?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Because it is… the best way to show… devotion to Verea, marriage is… the ultimate act of love,” she whimpered.

Her legs quivered and orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave. A loud moan escaped her mouth before she fell into Tarok’s arm, her thighs pressed hard into his hand, whose two fingers still lodged inside her. At least they stopped moving. Her face pressed against his bicep, her hand grabbed his arm for dear life. She closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Both of them sat still. For a brief post-orgasm moment, her mind went blank. A wave of blissful enjoyment washed over her. It was so long since she had a release like this. Lara’s ragged breaths slowed to normal. A soft purr even escaped her mouth.

“Wake up princess”, he whispered into her ear. ”Do I need to remind you that you’re here to serve me, not the other way around?” His voice was quiet but the icy cold of his tone cruelly brought Lara back to reality. The short moment of respite was gone. She was once again a slave at the mercy at the hand of a minotaur.

“I’m…sorry”, she uttered. Sitting up straight, Lara pushed herself away from his muscular arm. Her eyes looked up and saw him studying her post-orgasmic face. Tarok leaned very close to her head, his muzzle touched her temple and he took a deep breath. Then again. And again. Then he drifted down to her collarbone and did the same thing. Lara froze as he sniffed her. Tarok lifted his head and withdraw his fingers from her vagina, making Lara squirmed in the process. He sniffed his fingers before licking them clean.

“I need to know the smell of my slaves. That way I can tell if a girl is mine or not.” He explained without her asking. “Unless you wanted to be branded with hot iron,” he added.

She shook her head. It made sense. His animal side could probably differentiate smell better than a human.

“I like your smell, and your taste, too.” He shot a glance at Lara from his fingers. “Did you take a bath before you come here?”

She nodded.

“Good. Keep doing that next time you come here. And about your request earlier,” he said, pressing his face closer to her ear. He grasped her shoulder, his grip grew stronger. “Slaves don’t get to make demands. I can fuck you whenever I want, wherever I feel like it. That can be now or a week later, here or in the kitchen or in the courtyard in front of the men. Makes no difference for me. But, there’s no need to be hasty, nor nasty. I’ll give you some time to adjust. You are mine, and when the time comes, I’ll take your virginity. It’s either me or some other men anyway. Understand?”

Lara's heart sank like a bird shot down by an arrow. Even though the answer was expected, the harshness of it still hit her hard. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought heroically to keep them from bursting out. Be strong, she told herself. She determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her weakness. She nodded without looking at him.

“Stroke my cock, and keep your mouth clean, I’ll use it later,” he ordered. Track repositioned himself and lay down on the bed, his hands behind his head in a relaxing pose. He gave her an expectant look.

Lara grasped his thick shaft. It was already semi-hard, pulsing with heat. It only took a bit of handiwork before he was fully erect. The towering cock looked impressive, with throbbing veins running along its length to the flared head. The entire thing was thick enough that she could not circle it with her hand. She tried to work him as fast as she could with both hands, hoping that after his orgasm he would let her go. The grunting and heavy breathing from Tarok showed it was working. She could feel the tension building up as his cock jerked and throbbed quicker by the minute. Almost now. Almost…

“Stop.”

Lara had hardly registered his voice before she was abruptly pulled out of his cock and fell facedown onto his broad chest. She felt his hands grasped her hip and raised it to the level of the tip of his cock. It touched her crotch.

“Master!” she cried in panic, “You said - you said you give me time-“

“I know what I said”, replied Tarok levelly. He shifted her hip a little so that his tip brushed past her vagina, making Lara wriggled in his grasp. “That’s why I’m taking your ass.” He flashed her a diabolical grin.

“No, please master, it can’t - it won’t…” Lara’s voice trailed off, words escaped her mind as it was filled with horror. She couldn’t bear contemplating being anally penetrated by that thing.

“Well, give me a reason not to,” he challenged her.

For a few seconds, he held her there, waiting for a response. Lara’s mind was racing. Fighting back would be futile. His size relative to her made that clear. She has tried to gain his sympathy and that’d failed. What else could she do?

“Time’s up, Lara. If you’ve got nothing…“ His smile became wider. He looked like he was about to burst out laughing.

A daring thought darted through her mind. Normally she would have regarded this as suicidal, but she was desperate. She must act now.

Lara jumped toward him. She aimed for his neck, to grab onto it and beg for her life and dignity. Yet, at that very moment, his hands, for some reason, released their grip on her hip, causing her to plunge harder than she expected. Her head leaped past Tarok’s neck and her lips collided with his.

The moment Lara’s lip touched Tarok, his body immediately tensed up. Lara knew she’d screwed up severely. He would kill her for the impudent deed for sure. Her body was paralyzed by fear while her lips locked to his. She wouldn’t dare move nor breathe, being so close to him. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end.

But the end didn’t come. Tarok didn’t throw her off and proceed to break every bone in her body. Underneath she heard low grumbles deep in his chest and the distinctly loud beating of his heart. Warm gusts of winds from his nostrils fluttered her hair. His hands had dropped to her butt and were squeezing it tightly. She suddenly felt something hot splashing on her back repeatedly. Then the unmistakable musky smell hit her.

He ejaculated!

Lara hadn’t moved an inch. Instinct told her to look up to see what had happened. She didn’t know what to expect if she looked up now, but curiosity got the better of her. She lifted her head slightly just enough to glimpse at the surroundings and by doing that, parted her lips from Tarok’s.

Over the headboard was white strands of liquid sticking on the wall. He came hard enough that semen flew over them! And below her the owner of those liquid streams laid panting hard, his mouth opened as he gasped for air. His face had changed: the usual diabolical grin was washed away by a contorted countenance of profound pleasure. A thin layer of fog was covering the deep blue sea that was his eyes. She found that they were no longer as sharp or intense as before. Then something changed in them when they focused on her stunned face.

In a blink of an eye, Lara was hurled to the other side of the bed and ended up rolling on her back. On the other side, Tarok jumped to the floor. He stood on his hooves, his gigantic body shook from the orgasm. He wiped his mouth and looked at his hand for a moment before gazing at Lara. The foggy sea had disappeared, in its place was now a burning blue inferno of deep anger.

“Come. Here.” He growled each word in a deeper than usual voice. Lara, who was out of his reach due to being thrown violently across the bed, was immediately compelled to obey because of the tone of death in that command. She crawled toward him because she was shaking so much that she couldn’t stand. His towering figure stood in front of her like Death himself. She tried to open her mouth to explain, to defend herself, but the effort was cut short when Tarok swung his hand at her throat and lifted Lara off her feet. Dangling helplessly, her face was on the same level of Tarok’s, and she could feel the tightening grip on her throat.

“WHAT. DID. YOU. JUST. DO?” He gritted his teeth with an immense fury in his voice, each word was accompanied by an infernal blow of wind expelled from his nostrils. Lara couldn’t breathe, her vision blurring. She was about to pass out when Tarok threw her on the bed, most likely because he realized the contradiction between his question and his action. With access to air again, Lara gasped and coughed heavily, her hand clutching her throat as if to make sure it was still there. For several minutes there were only the sounds of Lara trying to breathe. When her vision had returned, Lara could make out the tall and imposing outline of Tarok over her, still burning with a passionate rage.

“Get. Out.” He muttered breathily. Lara stared at him through her partially restored vision, but now blurred with tears.

“GET OUT,” he bellowed. Gathering all her strength, Lara climbed off the bed and bolted to the door. When she opened it, her clothes flew past her. She grabbed them and slammed the door shut.

Lara kept running and running and running. Everything was a blur as the walls flew in the opposite direction. Lara didn’t stop until the stone archway was finally behind her. Then she collapsed on the stone floor naked. The piercing pain of cold air assaulted her throat, replacing the numbness on her throat. She was alone here, the night was dead silent except for the crackling of the torches on the wall and Lara’s hoarse wheezing. It was a miracle that she managed to run that far after being almost strangled to death. Tears fell uncontrollably down her face. She curled into a ball and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. If you enjoy this, please leave a comment. It really helps me going.


	3. Revelation

Cold.  
It was the only thing Lara could feel when she woke up, then the horrific memory of last night rushed back to her. She gasped and almost made a yelp, but managed to cover her mouth quickly when she realized she was still lying on the stone floor outside Tarok’s bedroom, and still naked. The exhaustion and sobbing had put her to sleep. Her throat hurt and was dry as sand, but at least she could breathe normally.  
It took Lara a whole minute just to get up on her feet. Her body ached and her limbs were as rigid as ice--the result of sleeping on the stone floor in the cold. Her wobbling feet were especially battered as if she had run through an entire forest barefooted instead of a short hallway. At last, Lara stood up and put on her servant dress, which was a battle of its own since she was shaking uncontrollably from the cold.  
Her mind raced to figure out what to do next. One thing for sure, she had to get out of here. Daylight was coming, and Tarok could leave his bedroom at any moment. She paced the corridors slowly, struggling to stay focused as each step sent a shock of pain from her feet through her body. It felt like she was walking on a bed of nails. What should she do now? Who could help her?  
Erika! That’s it. She could think of some ways to fix this situation. Lara quickened her pace.  
\---***---  
“I heard you the first ten times. There's no need to wake the whole place up.” Erika opened the door, annoyed from being rudely awoken by the repeated door banging. “Lara? What are you doing here? It’s still too earl-” Lara didn’t let the old woman finished. Erika stared dumbfounded at the young girl as she barged into the room and closed the door behind her.  
“I’m so sorry. But I need your help. Please, please, or he’ll kill me.”  
“Calm down. What happened? Who’s he?”  
“It’s Tarok.” Lara dropped to her knees and grabbed Erika’s waist. “Please, please help me.”  
“Calm down, Lara. What’s got into you? I can’t help if you keep blabbering like that. Get up, get up. Sit down there and tell me what happened.” She pointed to her bed. “Wait a minute. What’s WRONG with your throat?” exclaimed the old woman when she saw Lara’s neck.  
“Is…is it that bad?”  
“Your throat was all bruised and blackened. Did someone choke you? Who did this?”  
“Tarok. Who else,” said Lara, covering her face with her hands.  
“Tarok? This made no sense. Why...How? What did you do to him?”  
“What did I do? What did I DO? The monster almost strangled me to death!” Lara yelled indignantly. “I am the one to blame?”  
“Lower your voice, girl. Sit down. Look, Tarok never harms his slave on a whim. It is completely unlike him to decide to strangle anyone for no reason. He’s not a sadistic beast who beats people for fun. Trust me, I know him longer than you. You must have done something wrong for this to happen. Now, get a hold of yourself and tell me what happened.”  
While Lara rubbed her hurt neck, Erika walked to the fireplace and fetched Lara a cup of hot herbal tea, which, for Lara's dry throat, helped tremendously. Erika grabbed her blanket and put it over the shaking girl, which helped too. Lara recounted last night events to the old woman, leaving out as much detail of the sex as possible. The story was already awkward enough.  
“So… you accidentally kissed him,” Erika said after a moment of silence. Lara had finished her story and was twirling her teacup.  
“What was his response?” asked Erika.  
“You saw it. Here is his response.” Lara pointed to her neck.  
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry. But what about right after the kiss?”  
Lara reminisced for a moment. “He seemed to enjoy it. He looked…pleased. Then he was immediately enraged.”  
Erika stood up and paced the small room. This piece of information had put her in a pensive mood.  
“Interesting. Quite interesting,” she mumbled, looking at the floor. “I wondered what he would have done had he was a full-blooded minotaur?”  
“Wait, what? Are you saying he’s not a full-blooded minotaur?”  
Erika looked at Lara. Her face twisted into a look of stunned abhorrence at what she just said, but it faded quickly as her stern demeanor returned.  
“I shouldn’t have said that. Forget it.”  
“What do you mean he’s not a full-blooded minotaur?” Lara asked again, ignoring the old woman. She was genuinely curious. Suddenly the lingering fear had, at least momentarily, subsided from her mind.  
“Well, you look like a girl who can keep things to herself,” Erika said after carefully studying Lara’s face for a moment. “It’s not really a secret. Everyone in the camp knows that. But you’d better not mention it in front of Tarok or you risk invoking his wrath. Understand?” Lara nodded obediently. “His mother is human. So he’s half-minotaur.”  
“What? But…how? Humans and minotaurs can’t have children. He told me that.”  
“That’s true, such is the laws of the gods. Also, he’s, um, been with a lot of girls, none of them ever gets pregnant. But I don’t really know how he was born. No one does. For some miracle, he exists. If you want to know more and are tired of living, ask him yourself. But that’s what I heard from the men, the ones that’d been together with Tarok for a long time. I wasn’t prying though, drunkards tell tales, you know. I didn’t believe it at first, I thought it was just the booze speaking. But over time I have observed many peculiarities about Tarok. He’s not like those creatures that live in the mountains you heard from the tales, don’t you think?”  
“What's so strange about him?” asked Lara. She already had some ideas, but she wanted to know the old woman’s perspective.  
“You seriously don’t notice? You don’t find it strange that he speaks the human tongue perfectly? He’s also too intelligent for dumb brute minotaurs. He doesn’t smell like a dead rat in a pigsty all the time. He lives among humans, unlike minotaurs, who always keep to themselves and never leave their tribes, except for fighting. And your last night with him. You said he enjoyed it? If what I have heard about those mountain bulls are correct, they don’t have romantic relationships or marriage or anything like that. For them, there’s only pure breeding. The offspring don’t even know their fathers. And one particular thing people observe from them is that minotaurs don’t kiss. If you kiss a real minotaur, he would be as you would if someone, say, scratches your ear: very confused.”  
Lara listened attentively to Erika’s speech. Her story had put an entirely new perspective on Tarok for Lara. He was half-minotaur. How was that possible? What would it entail?  
“But you said the kiss pleased him, and also enraged him enough to strangle you,” Erika continued. “I can’t divine a reason for that. I just don’t know what to make of this.” The old woman studied Lara’s neck while she talked. After she had finished speaking, Erika stood up, walked towards her bed and crouched down. Lara saw the old woman pulled a mid-size wooden trunk out from under the bed. She rummaged through what looked like her own clothes and finally took out a white scarf.  
“Here, wrap this around your neck. If the other girls see your bruises, they might be disturbed.”  
Lara put on the scarf. Even though it was a plain white piece of fabric, it looked nice around her neck with two ends dangling in front of her chest. She smiled at Erika gratefully.  
“It’s nothing. Now, it’s very important that you keep this a secret, understand? I will try to find a way to help you. But his mood is unpredictable right now. You better stay out of his sight until I know what to do.”  
At that moment a creak from the door alerted both women. Lara turned her head towards the door and saw a giant figure standing by the door frame. She jumped out of the bed and pressed her back against the wall as panic consumed her.  
“Tarok, what are you doing here?” asked Erika. She had stood up between Lara and Tarok. She was surprised too, yet managed to affect a calm voice.  
Tarok’s eyes widened in recognition as he saw Lara in the room, then they quickly narrowed. “I intend to hear your report on the recent raids. But I see you have a visitor,” he said flatly. He eyed Lara, who was still glued to the wall. “Actually, can you check on the scouting party and learn what they did yesterday?” He spoke before Erika can answer.  
“Can’t you do that yourself? Besides, it was still early, I don’t think the men would appreciate being woken up. If you still want that report, I need a moment to, um, add some numbers. If you come back later-”  
“I insist, Erika.” Despite his mild words, his tone signified the end of the conversation. “And don’t worry about your guest, I just want to talk to her.”  
“Tarok…”  
“The scout, Erika, now.” He commanded.  
She stared at him for a few seconds before turning back to Lara. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Lara could see that Erika was genuinely remorseful. Lara could only look down in defeat. Her hope had been shattered, even Tarok’s second in command couldn’t sway him.  
With a sigh, Erika walked out of the room. “She’s a good girl, Tarok. I hope you can see that. She doesn’t deserve…whatever you’re about to do.” Erika left one final remark before leaving. With the door closed, Lara was alone in the room with Tarok.  
Tarok made the first move. He strode towards Lara with an intimidating determination. Part of her mind was screaming for her to run away, but she knew it was futile and only served to anger him more. So she just stood on her spot, waited for her doom.  
Tarok grabbed her by the waist, and in one swift motion, picked her up and rudely placed her on top of the table, so their faces were on the same level. Tarok gripped her shoulder with his right hand, while his left lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. His blue eyes weren’t the thunderous storm that she saw last night, but Lara could still see his subdued fury underneath.  
“You’re quite a smart girl. Come running here for help,” he growled in a quiet but in a deep, portentous voice. “You really think that could work? After what you’ve done?”  
“Please, master. I’m sorry.”  
“WHY did you kiss me last night?” he growled.  
“I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. I…I was scared. I didn’t know it would happen. Please, master.”  
“Are you a witch? Are you trying to hex me?” Tarok pressed on.  
“Wha…me? A witch? No, master. I’m…I’m not a witch, I have never even seen a witch. I’m merely a priestess of Verea. Please, I told you yesterday.”  
“You’re LYING.” He barked at her. Lara could feel his grip tightening. But she noticed something in his voice. It was…uncertainty?  
“No, please, master. I swear, I’m telling the truth. I wouldn’t lie to you. I swear.”  
Tarok breathed heavily. His lips twitched and his gaze drifted away from her face. He was looking at somewhere distant and unknowable to Lara.  
“If you’re not a witch, then...why? Why does it feel so...” he muttered to himself. What is he talking about? Then Lara remembered about his reaction-his expression of utmost pleasure.  
“Did you feel…something?” she asked tentatively.  
“What? What did you say?”  
“When I…when the kiss happened, did you feel something?” Lara repeated. Despite the intensity of his questioning, she forced herself to look straight at him.  
“Yes, I did.” He gritted his teeth. “It felt good. Intensely good. Like I never felt before. Why? Are you admitting that you used witchcraft on me?”  
“No, no. It’s not a spell. Not at all. I swear. Feeling good is normal, for humans, when they kissed. It’s not unusual, master.”  
“But I’m not a human. I’m a minotaur. Why do I feel it?”  
Lara would have been as puzzled as he was, had Erika not told her about Tarok’s parentage. Suddenly, she saw a way out of this predicament. It was a risky plan. But, right now, it was the only plan she could think of.  
“Master,” she said slowly. “I know…I know you’re half-human. Maybe that’s why you feel the kiss.”  
She could immediately see the impact of her words on him. Tarok’s eyes widened in shock, his grasp on her loosen and his jaw dropped slightly. But he quickly regained control of himself and leaned even closer to Lara. She could feel his hot breath blowing on her neck. She twitched.  
“How did you know that? Doesn’t matter. I’m not human, understand? I’m a minotaur, the creature that you humans fear and hate. I’m the thing you call a monster, the thing that you tell children to scare them. I’m the heartless, cruel beast that plunders and kills indiscriminately. Understand?”  
“I don’t think you’re a monster, master,” Lara said. She chose her next words very carefully. “Two nights ago, when I was lying on the floor crying, you didn’t violate me. You took pity on me. I could see that in your eyes, right at that moment. And your eyes, they are human too. You have a part of humanity inside of you, and that part of humanity knows compassion and pity. You’re not a monster, master.” A ball of guilt swelled in her stomach: she did call him a monster earlier. But Erika’s tale about Tarok’s past had changed what she thought about him.  
Tarok didn’t answer her right away. He swallowed, and spoke slowly, “You’re brave, very brave to speak to me like that. But you don’t know me. I don’t want to be a human. Humans are weak. Pathetic. Like you. I could easily snap you in half without breaking a sweat.”  
He frantically pushed Lara on her back, pinning her against the table, his right hand pressed to her chest. “It’s not pity that night that I showed. It was weakness. Just weakness from me,” trembled Tarok. His voice cracked as he conspicuously shielded himself from Lara’s revelation. He was lying, and both of them knew it.  
“You’re too much trouble to keep around. I need to get rid of you. A virgin could sell right away. That’s it. There’s a foreigner nearby, I can send you to him right now. I don’t even care how many coins you’ll fetch.” The mention of foreigner frightened Lara, and she wriggled in his hold in protest.  
“No, master. Please no, don’t sell me to them. Please-ahhh,” yelped Lara in pain when Tarok grabbed her knee to stop her from wriggling. He saw her agonizing face, then he looked at his hand that was holding her knee. He hadn’t held her tight enough to elicit such a painful cry. Tarok saw for the first time the bruises and cut on her feet. Slowly, Tarok pulled Lara’s dress up, tracing the bruises up to her bare knee.  
“Master, please,” Lara said as she grabbed his right arm with both of her hands. “Please don’t do it. I beg of you, please.”  
He looked at her hesitantly. His resolve to cast her away was fading fast. He seemed uncertain of what to do now.  
Lara guided his right hand away from her chest, which he allowed her to do, to her throat. “Master, all I ever wanted is to be married and have a happy family. If you sell me to foreigners, I can never have that. I’ll die in their hands.” She swallowed hard, tears swelling in her eyes. “If I can’t have my simple wish, then please, just kill me. I’ll accept my punishment. But please, please keep me whole for Verea. Don’t let them tear me apart.” Having said her plea, Lara allayed every fiber in her being and waited.  
No answer came from Tarok. At that moment, he noticed the scarf on her neck. His shaky fingers tugged it, and the scarf felt down, revealing Lara’s blemished skin beneath. Her neck suffered the most from yesterday, with patches of purple and black in the shape of his hand marring her usual pale and smooth skin.  
For seconds, none of them said anything. The room thickened with an eerie silence. He kept staring at her throat until finally, he looked at her in the eyes. When Tarok pushed Lara to the table, he had leaned in to threaten her. Now, their faces were so close to each other, Lara could study each muscle in his face. The muscles were no longer tense and stiff like before. Anger had drained from his bestial face, his breathing had slowed to normal. She noticed he took a deep breath.  
Tarok planted his left hand on the table and moved his face to the side of her head. She felt his muzzle brushed against her ear. Then he inhaled deeply again.  
Lara didn’t know what to do as he filled his lung with her scent. His right hand softly caressed her neck and crept gently to her shoulder. Lara shuddered involuntarily as she sensed his fingers on her soft skin, his thumb brushed her neck lightly. The sensation was different from yesterday because his hand touched her with a novel _passion_. She couldn’t believe a brute like him could have such a delicate touch.  
A tingling feeling flowed to Lara’s brain every time he breathed, as gushes of sultry wind from his nose enveloped her ear. She shivered when he leaned in closer and their bodies rubbed each other; for the first time, she experienced the heat emanating from his core. Her mind quickly overflooded with the new incredible sensation, and Lara mindlessly let out a quivering whimper “ahh”.  
As suddenly as it came, the pleasant feeling disappeared. Tarok jumped away from her, leaving Lara alone on the table, her mouth covered with her hands. She couldn’t believe she had just moaned with so conspicuous a pleasure in front of him. A few steps away from Lara, Tarok stood on his feet, looking just as surprised as her. The extraordinary flash of passion from him, combined with her vocal receipt of it, had left both Tarok and Lara speechless. Their eyes remained locked on each other for one second more before Tarok turned to the door and walked hurriedly out of the room.  
\---***---

Lying on her hay bed in the servant bedchamber, Lara tried to take a nap. It was afternoon, and she was free for the rest of the day. All the bookkeeping had been done, all the loots logged down, all the coins counted. Done. Finish! As a reward for her work, Lara was allowed the rest of the day off. However, sleep didn’t come, not to a troubled mind like her. She kept thinking of yesterday's encounter with Tarok.  
Since his abrupt leaving, she hadn’t seen him again, which was a big relief for her. She didn’t want to see the minotaur.  
At least not now.  
Not that she wanted to spend another night with him. By Verea, no. And the thought of running into him still filled her with fright. However, she was curious of what was going on in his mind during that moment when they were alone in Erika’s room. She was so intrigued. A little part inside her wanted to ask Tarok about it, but the other larger part wanted her to stay alive.  
After Tarok had left, Erika came back almost immediately. Lara refused to tell her what had happened, except that his anger had subsided, and she wanted to get back to work. She had promised to tell the old woman everything later. Lara felt bad for keeping things from Erika, but she needed some time to collect her thoughts. Erika, after a glance of concern, acquiesced. They returned to work shortly after.  
Anyway, her plan had worked. When Lara was trapped under him, she pleaded to his human side, trying to find some empathy behind those blue eyes. And she succeeded, or at least able to quell Tarok’s anger for the moment. When she thought about Tarok, Lara realized she didn’t hate him as much as she assumed she would. She had believed he was an evil and cruel beast, but was he really like that? After their encounter, she wasn’t so sure anymore. She had stared into the eyes of the beast and saw no evil and cruelty, but rather _fear_. She wondered why.  
Lara let out a long sigh and got up, she wasn’t going to get any shut-eye. Heading up to the watchtower for fresh air would seem like a good idea now. Usually, there was at least one man who stood guard there, but he was nowhere to be seen today; he’d probably slacked off to play cards with the other soldiers.  
It was thankfully lukewarm this afternoon, a welcoming respite from the unpleasant coldness of the past few days. Furthermore, there was no chance of bumping into Tarok. He went out with a few men earlier today after the morning scout party had returned. According to Erika, Tarok was particularly agitated after hearing the scout’s report and set off immediately, although she wasn’t sure why.  
The sun shone briskly in the cloudless sky. Standing on the watchtower, Lara breathed in the dry afternoon air mixed with the damp grassy smell of the field below. She rested her hands on the battlement and leaned forward to look around. The rotund watchtower was the only one in the fort. It and the rest of the fort situated atop of a mound and this location gave Lara a sweeping view of the surrounding. From where she was standing there was nothing but a sea of yellow grassland stretching to the north, south and west up to the horizon. Only some dirt roads that separated the monotony of the vivid amber with the dull color of brown dirt. The fort faced southwards, and out of the gate in that direction was the camp of the soldiers. Tents, wagons, fire camps, horses and the like scattered all over the place like a chessboard set up by an infant. A few hundred yards to the east was a forest; whenever the wind blew, the tall trees along the edge nodded and whispered to each other some ancient tales with the wind. The dark but soothing green of the woodland contrast greatly to the animated yellow all around. Quite a view up here.  
Lara looked down. There’s no way she could jump down to escape, and there were no long bedsheets tied end-to-end for her to use. She sighed and turned her gaze longingly towards the north. Somewhere beyond this grassland was Merinth, her home. Used to be, rather; there was probably nothing there but empty houses now. She had spent her entire, albeit short, life there. She knew so little about the world, having only been trained since a little girl to be a Verea’s priestess for her village. There was no other life for her. And now, when that life was over, Lara missed it dearly. Where would she go? Where would fate send her next?  
If only she could become a bird, she could sprout wings and soar through the air and escape from this prison. She could settle in another place, in a more peaceful land. Lara could build her nest with a loving husband by her side. She would look after the house, teach her children to read, tell them fairy tales about elves and goblins and other magical creatures. She would watch them play in the yard and get dirt all over their little bodies. At night, Lara would wash them, cook them a meal and put them to bed after a goodnight kiss. All simple things, forever unobtainable.  
An ear-splitting scream tore through the calm afternoon silence and woke Lara up from her daydreaming. She dashed towards the source of the noise. It was from the camp area. She looked down from the tower and was shocked at the sight below her.  
It was chaos. The camp was being attacked by a mob of…humanoid treemen? They were pouring out of the forest. The treemen were roughly a head taller than an average man, their bodies made of rugged brownish-grey tree barks dotted with patches of green moss. They walked in a clunky manner, like that of a badly crafted marionette, but the vicious swings of their blade-like arms can cut down anyone foolish enough to stand in their range. Lara could see sap seeping from the cracks of their bodies whenever they moved. It looked like they were just moments before turned from living trees into these…things.  
The sudden attack of the trees forced the soldiers into retreat. Those who closest to the gate were running inside whereas those farther out put up a brief fight. The soldiers hacked and slashed at the trees but their swords proved ineffective against thick bark.  
This is bad. Why is this happening? These things weren’t living creatures of the forest. Tree people had never set roots in these parts of the world. These treemen must have been conjured up by someone.  
A sudden strong gush of wind and a loud thud of something hitting the stonework behind Lara prompted her to turn around. Standing on the battlements opposite to her was…a bird-woman! The creature was carrying something on its back, evidently by the leather strap on its chest.  
Lara had heard of these bird-human hybrids, and this one looked more like 8 parts bird and only 2 parts human. It had the frame of a woman, and that’s the only thing humanoid about the creature. Its head was almost like that of a hawk’s with a black pointy beak making up the bulk of its face. A coat of radiant azure-and-gold feathers covered its body. In place of hands, there were two claws, its arms lined with thick layers of feathers, forming the enormous pair of wings whose span could probably envelop Lara’s entire body. Save for a strategically lain piece of garment, which lay between what must be the longest pair of legs Lara had ever seen, the bird-woman was naked entirely. But the strangeness of this creature didn’t bother Lara as much as those two sharp-as-a-knife eyes above the beak, with brilliant canary yellow irises and the deepest, darkest onyx pupils she had ever laid eyes upon. And they were staring straight at her.  
Lara didn’t know if this creature was friendly or not. Unfortunately, she didn’t need to wait to find out. A bone-chilling screech spewed forth from the creature’s beak. It stood to full height, flapped its wings and plunged towards Lara. Lara felt the blood drained from her face as she stumbled backwards, over the battlements and down. Underneath there was only thin air to catch her fall. The last thing she saw was the silhouette of her attacker above her, spreading its magnificent wings with a strange purple halo behind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, I wonder what will happen to Lara?  
> If you enjoy this, please leave a comment. It's really help me going


	4. A threat

For the longest time, there was only darkness. Then Lara saw it, the light, shining in the distance. At first, it was dim, but it shone gradually brighter. And brighter. And brighter. Too bright in fact, it became irritating. She opened her eyes.  
Lara jolted and screamed. The fall. That was the first thing she remembered when she regained consciousness. But she was not falling, she was on solid ground now. She felt the ground with her hands. Yes, it was really solid, wood solid, it felt. She couldn’t see the floor as the blinding glare was still shining on her face. Then the light weakened. It took a few seconds for Lara to regain her vision. And when she did, she realized, for the second time in a few days, she was imprisoned again, this time in a wooden cage.  
It seemed she was indoor as there was no sunlight anywhere, and the only light source was from the person standing in front of her. The stranger looked like a sorceress. She was a magnificent sight to behold. Her tall and slender body ensconced in a blue dress that failed marvelously to cover her up at places where it should. The tight bodice split in the middle, showing ample cleavage. The hem of the dress was a mass of delicate tassels that generously showed off her long full legs whenever she moved. Her skin was smooth as silk and her face resembled the idealized images of goddesses from ancient statues. Her entire body oozed sensuality, seemingly molded to arouse unsuspecting eyes. In her right hand, she was holding a lavishly ornate wooden staff topped with a bright gem emitting a soft purple light. Purple…?  
“Are you that bird-woman on the tower?” Lara asked after she connected the dots.  
“Good observation,” the sorceress remarked with a slick as ice voice. She entered the cell and walked towards Lara. The young priestess involuntarily crawled back away from the advancing witch until her back touched the cage. Lara felt uneasy with this woman, her intuition told her there’s something unnatural about this witch. The lustrous woman extended her hand and held Lara’s face, she twisted and turned Lara’s head as she studied every facet of her face.  
“How old are you?” asked the sorceress.  
“I’m twenty,” Lara muttered. The sorceress’s hand was the same as her voice, cold as ice.  
“What’s your name?”  
“I’m Lara. Who are-?”  
“Good, good,” the witch said with a satisfied smile. Letting go of Lara, she stood up and walked out of the cell. “Come with me,” she said.  
“Who are you? Why are you taking me here?” Lara asked sheepishly.  
“You can call me Melisza. You’re here for a special reason, dear Lara. Come with me and you’ll find out,” she said while waited at the cell’s door for Lara. She still wore a smile, but it's definitely not to show friendliness.  
Lara stood up, and in the process realized something’s different about her. What is she wearing? She wasn’t wearing the dull servant dress, but a white, thin, almost sheer, ankle-length dress. It fit her perfectly as if it was tailored for her. She gave Melisza a confused look.  
“You’ll find out soon enough,” the witch repeated, the mysterious smile never faded on her face.  
“Let’s go.” Melisza chirped cheerfully and Lara meekly followed the witch. She had so many questions, and the witch’s reticence made Lara anxious.  
As they walked through a narrow corridor, Lara noticed many strange things about this place. The floor and the wall were made of wood. There weren’t any light sources except Melisza’s staff and crystal balls hanging from the ceiling that magically lighted up whenever Melisza walked under them. Lara heard the sound of birds chirping coming from somewhere, and judging from the constant chirping there must be a lot of them. Finally, they made it into a big room filled with sunlight. She could see the sky above through a giant hole on the ceiling, and above the hole, schools and flocks and hordes and mobs of birds of all kinds were flying or perching. Lara saw green leaves and big branches above the hole, providing natural shades. Suddenly it made sense to Lara: she was inside a tree the whole time. And this must have been some sort of sundeck for the witch. Melisza must have carved out her lair from this giant tree.  
But there was no time for sightseeing as Melisza descended a wooden staircase. Lara followed her, and the light above faded gradually, but never diminished completely.  
At the bottom of the stair was a round room. At first, Lara couldn’t make out what was in it because the room was near pitch black, but Melisza waved her staff and the room brightened up. Lara gasped when she saw light spread above her head as dozens of candles floating in the air were lit simultaneously.  
Lara looked around. It was a spacious living room with no windows. She saw chairs, tables, drawers and bookshelves. Scattered about were some tapestries and unknown items of decorations made of feathers mounted on the wall. On the opposite side of the room were double doors, and just like almost everything else in this lair, it was made out of wood. But the thing that caught Lara’s attention was something lying in the middle of the room. As she and Melisza walked towards it, Lara could slowly make out the shape of the thing. It was a creature actually, a very big one. He prostrated on the floor and lay motionless, there was a thin layer of black fur on his body and most noticeably, a pair of ivory horns extruded from his head.  
“Recognize him? I took you away from his fort?” Melisza whispered into Lara’s ear, whose eyes were still glued on Tarok’s body. He was wearing brown leather pants and a tattered white shirt with multiple slashes on it, and he had no weapon on his body. Lara couldn’t answer, she was stunned and utterly confused. _What had happened here?_  
As if reading Lara’s mind, Melisza started explaining. “Well, your master and his ruffians rode here trying to attack me. How foolish! I got the upper hand since I saw their scouts riding away from my nest earlier, so I was prepared. Killing the men was easy. But him. Oh, he was a real piece of work. He destroyed probably a hundred of my tree guards. Only my strongest spell could bring him down.”  
“Is…is he dead?”  
“Dead? Oh, no. I’m not done with him yet. I have plans for him. And for you too, dear Lara,” Melisza whispered into Lara’s ear. Her breath was cold, and it made Lara’s skin crawled.  
The seductive witch left Lara’s side and strode towards Tarok. She gripped the staff by the tip and swung it, knocking Tarok’s horn with the other end. Golden sparks flew the moment wood and horn met, causing the minotaur’s body to jerk slightly. He awoke from his slumber and grunted.  
“Get up,” Melisza spat.  
Tarok panted hard as he struggled to prop himself up, his tense muscles straining under his own weight. Melisza must have cast an impressive spell to make him like this. At last, he managed to sit on his knees. Lara noticed he couldn’t rise further due to the fetter tying his hooves to the floor. His hands were also cuffed, and the handcuff tied to the floor through a short chain. The giant minotaur flexed his arm and yanked hard at the chain, but it didn’t give. He tried again, harder, but still, nothing happened. He studied the chain. Lara saw the surprise on his face, but a faint purple glow on the chain let Lara knew Melisza had enchanted it.  
“Stop wasting your energy,” the witch said, already walked back a step to keep out of Tarok’s reach. “My enchanted chains are stronger than your brute strength can ever be.”  
“Why do you keep me alive?” he muttered under his breath, still hadn’t looked up. His voice was low enough to be barely audible but was filled with a suppressed anger that reminded Lara of his earlier rage.  
“Hmm, you’re straightforward, huh. No ‘Where am I?’ or ‘What are you going to do to me?’ or ‘Please don’t hurt me’?" she said in a girlish mocking voice.  
Tarok remained silent, but his anger was barely contained now as steam blew through his muzzle. Melisza grinned. As she was walking back towards Lara, the witch said, “Don’t want to talk to me, huh? Then maybe, you would like to talk with someone you know.” Melisza grabbed Lara’s shoulders and shoved her forward forcefully, sending her falling face down in front of Tarok. When she had gotten up on her knees, she saw a pair of blue eyes, just a foot away from her, staring at her in disbelief.  
“WHY IS SHE HERE?” Tarok roared at the smirking witch.  
“Stop screaming! You’ll scare the birds. I bring her here of course. Oh, did I mentioned that I drop by your camp? After you had so thoughtfully trekked through the forest just to ‘visit’ my home, I could not but return the favor. It was very entertaining to see your men cut down to pieces by my tree guards, to hear their screams of anguish, to see the camp burned to ashes. I wonder what they will think if they know their leader did this to them. Hmm?” The sorceress hummed in a mock girlish sound. Tarok avoided her eyes. “But sadly, I couldn’t stay till the end, I got my prize, and so I must head back.”  
“What are you talking about? What prize?” Tarok inquired.  
“She’s kneeling right in front of you.” Melisza gestured towards Lara. She immediately felt her blood run cold. _Her? The prize? What does that witch want from her?_  
“Confused, huh? Well, you’ll know later, I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Anyway, truth be told, payback was just one of the reasons for my short trip to your camp. Through your accompanying minions, I learned of a young female slave in your possession. A Verea’s priestess no less. What a coincidence, I thought. I need a young girl right now. So I make the trip, prepare to fight my way through the fort to find this girl. But I don’t even need to do that. She was standing right on top of the tower, ready for me to grab. It was surprising how easy everything was.” She boasted in a singsong voice while parading around her bounded prisoners.  
“What did you do to them? The four men who follow me?”  
“I left them where I found them. Dead, of course. Don’t feel too bad, once I got everything I want to know, I let them meet their ends quickly. Sadly, the same can’t be said about _you_.”  
“What do you want from me?” Lara shouted. The witch’s refusal to let Lara know anything about her intention vexed the young girl immensely, and Lara couldn’t keep quiet anymore.  
The alluring sorceress didn’t answer right away. Her previous taunting grins now turned mysterious as she strolled towards the young priestess. “Don’t be impatient. Soon you’ll find out. I promised,” she said, her hand playfully pinched Lara’s cheek. Lara turned her head away from the witch’s hand.  
“Stop torturing the girl and start explaining yourself, you bitch,” Tarok growled.  
“OH. What shocking language! How dare you call me that, you ungrateful beast? After what I have done for you? Don’t you remember how important I was to you? Don’t you-”  
An explosive clank of the chain cut Melisza off. Tarok had plunged towards the witch but couldn’t grab her as the enchanted chains held firm, denying his advance and forcing him to fall back into his place. Lara was terrified, she had never seen him this angry before, not even when she mistakenly kissed him. His flared nostrils were blowing out steam, his teeth gritted tightly, his biceps and neck muscles flexed as he wrestled with the chains.  
Melisza flinched at the outburst but hold her ground, the grin never disappeared from her face. “Well, well, look like I make the bull’s blood boil.” She turned back to Lara. “Did he ever tell you about how much I meant to him? No? Well, let me tell you a story.”  
“Shut up,” Tarok grunted bitterly. He’d slumped to his knees, defeated.  
“You might be surprised to hear this,” the witch started, ignoring the seething giant, “that the dumb beast in front of you is not the same as the rest of the minotaurs. He was a very special thing. You see, his mother was human, only his father was a minotaur. "How?" you might wonder, is this possible? After all, when the gods created man and elf and minotaur and all other creatures, they make sure that their creations wouldn’t be able to breed with each other, lest they spawn some horrific abomination that offend the gods’ visions of life. And it was one of the laws that govern this universe, from the dawn of time up until…him. I created him. I cast the spell that gave life to him. I make the impossible happen. I, Melisza, had defied the gods,” she gloated, her voice became more and more excited until she realized she was ranting and calm herself down. Still, she couldn’t hide the pride in her tone. “His father was some chieftain from a tribe in the north-western mountain range, and his mother the chief’s slave, probably a whore-”  
“SHUT UP, YOU EVIL B-“  
A purple lightning bolt, accompanied by a screeching ‘zzz’ sound, flew from Melisza’s staff straight to Tarok’s chest. His body immediately tensed up, and he collapsed into a heaving pile on the ground.  
“How rude of you, to cut off a lady like that,” Melisza scoffed, visibly annoyed at Tarok for breaking her train of thought. “Anyway, I put my spell on his mother, just to see what would happen. I didn’t know if it would work or not. But it did. A few months later, she was visibly pregnant. I can only imagine the reaction the pregnancy caused to those mountain bulls. Too bad I can’t stay to see what happened next. After I left, I have always wondered what became of the child. Until today, when the minotaur from years ago, in flesh, came and showed himself to me.”  
“You didn’t know…if it…would work…or not,” Tarok said between breath intakes as he propped himself up, “because you didn’t invent that spell. Your teacher, Talina the Alchemist did. You steal it from her, along with all of her arcana and alchemy research. Even the staff in your hand was stolen from her. You killed Talina, you betrayed your own teacher. You cast the spell, not for the benefit of knowledge, but out of twisted curiosity. You didn’t care if the spell killed my mother or not, you didn’t care about what she had to go through. You couldn’t stay to see what happened, because you feared the other alchemists would learn of your treachery and come to hunt you down. So you had to run, and hide like a dirty RAT.” He explained, a smug grin appeared on his face when he saw Melisza’s facial expression. “Surprised, huh? All these years I’d try to find you. I traveled the land, I‘d gather what information I could find about you. And I found you at last. You’ll pay for what you did to me.”  
Throughout Tarok’s speech, Melisza’s countenance turned from slight annoyance to visible surprise to full-blown panic. Finally, the stew of emotions petrified into a cold, stiff grimace of anger.  
“And what is it exactly that I have done to you, except giving you life, making you exist. You. Owe. Me. Your. Life. You should be thankful for me, you stupid, ungrateful bastard,” barked Melisza.  
“I didn’t ask to be born like this,” Tarok screamed at the sorceress, venting his deep-seated grievance at her. “You couldn’t imagine the pains I’ve gone through. You made my life miserable. You made my mother’s life a living hell. All because of who I am. I’ll make you regret the day you cast that fucking spell, the day you thought you could toy with people’s lives like that. You hear me?”  
Melisza didn’t answer to his threat, nor making any response at all. In fact, she didn’t seem intimidated by it one bit. Her face slowly relaxed from the stiff anger as she composed herself.  
“Whatever,” she sneered. “Look at the chains on your hands and feet before you make threats, filthy beast. Life’s too hard for you? Tell it to someone who cares. You’re my slave now, my personal toy, understand? I can do whatever I want to you. I made you, and I can destroy you. Easily.” She retorted before turning around and walked away from Tarok.  
“Anyway, I’m tired of talking. I keep you alive for my entertainment, not for arguing,” the witch said, reverted to the sweetened singsong voice as before. Her demeanor had also changed, she walked confidently and acted in charge again. She pointed her staff at Tarok, but no lightning bolt came out or anything; instead the chain tying Tarok’s hands lighted up and the chain slackened. It had been magically lengthened.  
Setting herself down on a comfortable seat that looked like vines that had twisted and bent to the shape of a chair, Melisza said, “I’d always heard about the strength and power of minotaurs. Today, I saw you perform in battle, and I must say that was most impressive. But now, I want to see the other kind of prowess that people also say about minotaur. So give me a demonstration with the girl. Make her scream for me.”  
“What…did you say?” Tarok uttered after a moment of stunned silence.  
Melisza sighed. “Why are you so stupid? You have the head of a bull and the brain of one too? Fuck. The. Girl. With your cock. Ravage her on the floor. Do it like how you animals like to do it. Tore off her clothes or beat her or something. Just make it exciting,” she spoke with a casualness like that of a matron directing her servants to clean the house, and not of a witch giving instructions to an extremely perverted act.  
Tarok stared at the evil witch, then at Lara. She hadn’t moved from her place and was still on her knees after being shoved by Melisza. Even though her face was obscured by her black hair, one could tell, through the trembling of her petite body, how she was feeling right now. He turned to face Melisza again.  
“You want entertainment, huh. I got a better idea. How about you shove that staff up your cunt and go fuck yourself,” Tarok said under gritted teeth.  
Melisza looked like she’d had kicked Tarok if she was standing near him.  
“Stupid and stubborn! I guess it’s my fault. I should have disciplined you first.” Melisza raised her staff. It flashed and a bolt of lightning flew hit Tarok again. Before he could recover, 4 more bolts successively flew through the air and zapped him. He cried and collapsed on the ground. A faint smell of burned fur permeated the air. But that much lightning was not enough to take down Tarok completely, because after a moment of huffing and panting, he pushed himself back up.  
“Give up yet?” inquired Melisza.  
“F-fuck you.” Tarok uttered under his breath.  
Again a string of thunder strokes zapped Tarok. Again he collapsed. And again he rose up, still defiant of Melisza’s order.  
“What the hell is wrong with you?” the annoyed sorceress groaned, “I give you permission to fuck. Isn’t that you minotaurs do all day besides killing each other? And you refused?”  
“The girl is mine, and I, alone, decide what to do to her. And it definitely, not fucking, for your entertainment.” Tarok replied hoarsely through each intake of breath.  
“I don’t get this!” the witch said, shaking her head in bewilderment. She turned to Lara. “Lara. Tell me, how was sex with him like? Did he tend to refuse a fucking like this?”  
Having been forgotten during Melisza and Tarok’s verbal fight, Lara at first didn’t realize that Melisza was talking to her. Only after a few seconds did she come to her senses and Melisza’s words were processed in her distraught mind.  
“I…I don’t know!” she answered meekly, her voice shook from fear.  
“What do you mean you don’t know? How did he fuck you?”  
“He…he didn’t,” she replied truthfully.  
“What?” Melisza eyes narrowed into a probing squint then slowly widened. “He didn’t fuck you? As in, he didn’t penetrate you with his cock?”  
Lara nodded.  
“How long have you been his slave?”  
“About a week.”  
“Are you telling me, that he, a freaking minotaur,” she said, pointing a finger at Tarok, “captured a Verea’s virgin and still keep you as a virgin?” Lara obediently affirmed this with a slight nod.  
“Wow, this...this is amazing. I can’t believe my luck. I have a virgin in my hand,” the witch exclaimed in a cheery, shrill voice. “You surprise me, Tarok. I didn’t expect a beast like you to have that level of self-restraint. Oh, thank you, Tarok. Thank you for saving her for me.”  
“What are you talking about? What is this ‘saving her for me’?” Tarok growled.  
“Well, I guess it’s time you know about the purpose of this girl. This virgin.” The lascivious sorceress blinked at Tarok and continued. “Look at me, Tarok. See my body? Oh, don’t sneer, I know you or any male would drool over me. Don’t you ever wonder why I look this marvelous? I mean, I was alive before you were even born. Pfft, of course you don’t, you’re too stupid to realize that. Well, I tell you, it’s not easy. The alchemists have devised ways that can let you live longer, but none can stop the aging process. Those who live for more than 100 years all look like dried-up prunes. But not me, I found a way to keep my youth, and I need girls like this one to do it.” She walked towards Lara, grabbed her head, and pulled a handful of her hair, eliciting a yelp of pain from Lara.  
“Stop that! What are you going to do to her?” Tarok said.  
Melisza let go of Lara. “Don’t like it when I touch your slave huh? Fine, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Anyway, I have to sacrifice a girl. Annually. Not just any girl. She must be an adult so that her life force is fully developed. She must be young so that I can absorb her youth. And a young virgin is the best of all. It was getting difficult to kidnap young girls in recent years. The war had forced people to move to the cities, making my sources of prey dwindling. I haven’t been able to get my hands on a virgin for 5 years now. It was getting annoying. Finally, Lady Luck-that snobby bitch!-smiled upon me today. And now I have a virgin to sacrifice, plus a giant toy to play with,” she said with an ear-to-ear grin, her face was beaming with a morbid and sinister joy, the kind of joy that few people possessed when they’re about to kill someone.  
Lara didn’t cry after hearing about her bleak fate. Everything was simply too much for her to handle. She was enervated and felt no impulse to do anything at all. Lara was never a fighter. When she was growing up, Lara complied with the trajectory that was set by her foster mother to become the next priestess. After waking up inside the cell in Tarok’s base, she meekly accepted her fate as a slave. And now when her life was about to end so suddenly, Lara habitually gave in.  
_I’m pathetic!_ She thought.  
The witch stroked Lara’s neck. “Mmm, just imagine seeing blood pouring from this neck excites me. You like your dress? It is a sacrificial dress, made with the whitest material I could find, so it will soak as much blood as possible. I just _love_ seeing purity defiled.”  
Melisza walked, almost tiptoeing, around her sacrificial virgin while she examined her doomed prey one more time. She could hardly contain her excitement.  
“I must say, this girl is quite a looker. Might be the prettiest one I’ve got in a long while. Well, I’ll put this beauty to good use. Get up.” Melisza pulled Lara’s limped body up by the shoulder. “Well, Lara and I have some business to attend. As for you, Tarok, have the rest of the day for yourself. Consider this as a token of my appreciation-even though a beast like you hardly deserve it-for saving me this virgin.” She sang and turn towards the staircase, pulling Lara with her.  
“Wait.”  
Melisza turned around. “What now?”  
“I want to say something to Lara,” Tarok said calmly.  
Melisza stared at Tarok, as if not sure whether she heard correctly. “Why?” She asked at last, her eyes narrowed.  
“Just some last words. The girl deserves it.”  
The witch thought about his request before rolling her eyes and sighed. “Fine, consider this my ‘gratitude’, and it will be my last. Be quick. You waste enough of my time already.” Melisza nudged Lara towards Tarok. However, her legs were so weak that she stumbled forwards and fell on her knees.  
Tarok reached out to Lara, but the chain unexpectedly shrunk, stopping his hands from moving.  
“No no. You’re not touching the girl. Just say what you want to say already,” Melisza barked, growing increasingly impatient.  
Tarok shot a spiteful glance at Melisza and quickly turned his attention to the unresponsive girl in front of him. “Lara, look at me. Lara,” he called to her gently.  
Lara sluggishly looked up and saw his curious pair of blue eyes looking at her. Those mysterious eyes had caused her to freeze with dread when they burned blue with explosive fury. But now, they were oddly comforting.  
“Be brave, Lara. Don’t give up. I need you to be strong.”  
_What?_  
Did her ears deceive her? There had been quite a few surprises coming from him today, but giving her encouragement? Through her desperate eyes, she saw that Tarok was sincere. Tarok wanted to say something more but a snicker from behind Lara stopped him. Melisza was covering her mouth with her fist.  
“‘Be brave?’ ‘Don’t give up?’ Gods, Tarok, I didn’t know you were such a dear.” At this point, she didn’t bother to contain her laughter anymore. Her body was shaking so hard from laughing that she had to hold on to the staff to keep balance. “You just keep amaze me with your stupidity. Saying those things to a dead girl? Dear, oh dear, how pathetic.”  
“Laugh all you want,” Tarok said with an uncharacteristic calmness in his voice. He turned to the giggling witch, his eyes hardened. “But neither Lara nor I am the most pathetic one in this room.”  
The laughing stopped.  
“We're not as pathetic as you, who need to kill an innocent girl just to lengthen your life.” He sneered at Melisza, whose lips were thinning under her arrested breath.  
She walked silently towards the minotaur, harshly pushing Lara out of her way. She stopped and bent down in front of him, her face was inches from his. “Oh, now I’m pathetic huh. I harm girls, how deplorable I am!” She whined in a high-pitch girlish voice. “Don’t act so high and noble, you shit. You’re no better than me. You harm girls too.”  
Reaching an arm backwards, she grabbed Lara’s shoulder to pull her closer. “Look at this one's neck. Look at it! Why is it bruised and marred like that? Care to explain, Tarok?” She stressed the word “bruised” and “marred”.  
Her accusation caught Tarok off guard. He bit his teeth and looked away from her charging gaze just for a second. “I didn’t mean to do it,” he uttered.  
“Reaally! Didn’t mean to do it.” Melisza turned to Lara. “Is it true, Lara? Did he just 'accidentally' bruise your neck?”  
Lara was about to say “not accidentally”, but the young priestess hesitated when she looked at Tarok. His head hung low but his eyes looked to her. She instinctively felt as if he was waiting for her answer. Lara remembered his outburst of anger that frightful night, and how he looked at her neck later in Erika’s office.  
Lara swallowed. “I think so,” she muttered weakly. Lara saw Tarok relaxed when she said it.  
“You THINK so?” The witch snapped, her hand clenched hard on Lara’s shoulder, causing the poor girl to wince. “Did he do this to you or not?”  
“Y-yes, but-”  
“Then he fucking did it. Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?”  
“Hey! You’re hurting her,” exclaimed Tarok, which drew the attention of both women.  
“Oh! I’m sorry. How careless of me!” Melisza said unapologetically. Nevertheless, she let go of Lara and turned her attention squarely on the minotaur.  
“I’ve got a feeling, Tarok, that you seem to…,” she paused, her index finger doing circles in the air, “care too much about this lowly wench. You care when I touch her, you snapped when I squeeze her too hard. Not to mention those ‘last words’ of yours. Why’s that, huh?” Even though the witch merely whispered to Tarok, the stillness of the room, save for the faint flickering of candles floating above, allowed Lara to hear it all. Suddenly, she found herself wondering the same question as Melisza.  
Tarok didn’t answer her. Instead, he did something that scared Lara witless. He spat on the witch’s face. And because she was just inches away from him, she received the fullest effect of the insult.  
“You evil bitch. You think you’re so beautiful, aren’t you? Let me tell you something. You’re nothing but an old, ugly hag, who had to kill young girls just to prolong your wretched life. Your powers are stolen, your beauty is fake, just a paper-thin mask that you wear to convince yourself that you’re not completely worthless. NOTHING about you is real. You. Are. Pathetic.” Tarok growled the stream of insults at Melisza without taking a breath.  
Lara was utterly terrified. She couldn’t fathom the reason for Tarok’s tirade, nor could she imagine the terrible consequences of that be. Unfortunately for Lara, she didn’t have to wait to find out.  
A purple light flashed and a glimmer of metallic silver appeared on Melisza’s hand. Lara barely saw the tip of the knife before it plunged straight into Tarok’s left chest.  
The young girl would have made a startling scream had her hands weren’t quick enough to cover her mouth. And she had to look away when the knife slipped further into his chest. Rivulets of blood spewing from his wound and quickly stained the white tunic that he’s wearing. Despite being stabbed in the chest, he barely flinched, his face still glued on Melisza’s with an unyielding hatred.  
The witch let go of the knife to grip the staff tighter, so much that her knuckles seemed to turn white. Thunder cracked. Then, instead of a single bolt of lightning, the staff formed some sort of thunderstorm cloud and spew forth a constant stream of electricity towards Tarok. So much power is escaping from the gem that it created a disturbance in the air and sent breeze-like shockwaves through the room. Tarok roared from the painful lightning storm coursing through his body. He slumped to the ground. Then the witch, with her hairs standing on its end and flowing backwards due to the turbulence in the air, started to scream insults at him. She had finally reached her breaking point and had gone mad with fury.  
Lara was frozen with fear. She couldn’t hear what Melisza was saying, nor did she want to. The intensity of her anger was astounding. She was sure the evil witch would not stop until Tarok burned. And the thought of Tarok’s death scared her even more than her own death. Her eyes started to swell up from the morbid scene in front of her. She was watching someone dying.  
Then Lara saw his eyes. He lifted his head just for a few seconds, not to confront the witch in front of him, but to look at her. Despite the intense pain, he must be feeling, his twitching eyes focused only to her, then they made a quick dart to the staff before he collapsed completely to the floor, each of his muscles twitched with every stream of lightning that course through him. The last thing she saw was his face contorted in pain. He still screamed, but his voice was getting hoarser and quieter.  
Using his last ounce of strength, he had told Lara what she had to do. His earlier words rang like a bell in her head. “Be brave.”  
She had to be brave. Now. To save herself.  
To save Tarok.  
At the moment, Melisza was too occupied with torturing Tarok to pay any attention to Lara. Even though she was kneeling behind the witch, she was still too close to do anything without being noticed. Straightening up, Lara nudged herself slowly back and away from Melisza using her hands and feet, and she did it as discretely as possible. Luckily, the livid witch was blind to her surrounding, her rage-addled mind fixated only on murdering the minotaur in front of her.  
Lara tried to get up. Her legs shook so badly from fright and pressure. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she stood up, feeling calmer and less frightened. When her eyes are opened again, she noticed a surreal scene in front of her. A purple-colored halo enveloped the dark outline of Melisza’s body. The storm of lightning produced explosions of snapping and cracking which served as the background noises for Melisza’s cursing. At her feet, Tarok still valiantly endured the assault, but it seemed he was reaching the end of his rope, the tendons on his neck strained so much it could snap.  
Lara tore her eyes from Tarok to focus on her target: the staff. With no time left to think, she acted. She grabbed the staff below the spot that Melisza was holding and pulled backwards with all her might.  
Lara pulled hard enough that the varnished wood of the staff slipped from Melisza’s fingers, and in the process, Lara felt on her back and glided on the smooth wooden floor three feet away from the witch. Immediately the thunders and lightning dissipated. The force of the tug pulled the witch around, allowing Lara to see the utter shock on her face, her hand swung in the direction of the now out-of-reach staff, fingers stretched dramatically. She staggered but kept her balance. Her mouth opened to yell a curse at Lara, but before she could make a noise, an ear-piercing bang of snapped chains erupted behind Melisza. Tarok lurched forward, his giant hands grabbed the witch and pinned her to the ground.  
Lara looked at the wooden staff in her hand, which she pressed tightly against her body as if it was her most treasured possession. Without its owner, the powerful beacon-like illumination from the purple gemstone was reduced to that of a dying wick. Lara didn’t know much about magic, but it seemed the staff was the source of Melisza’s magical powers. Losing contact with the staff caused her magic spells to weaken and allowed Tarok to escape the chains. Lara sighed in relief. She did it!  
Using her elbow as balance, Lara sat up, still clung tightly to the staff. She smiled at Tarok, wanting to tell him she’d got the staff. But the smile died halfway on her lips.  
Tarok didn’t share her jubilant relief at all. Instead, he had the same facial expression of that night when she accidentally kissed him. In addition to the searing anger, there was also murderous sparks in his eyes. And it frightened Lara immensely. She involuntarily slid away from him.  
The talkative witch was silent, partly from shocked, but mainly because of the inhumanly large hand that was covering her throat. Steam flew from the nostrils of the owner of that hand, sweeping her face. Then the hand slowly but inexorably closing around Melisza’s throat.  
Lara didn’t see anything more after that. She lay face down on the wooden floor, still clutching the staff, and did her best to cover her ears from what’s about to happen.  
\---***---  
A minute later, it was over.  
Lara was a mess. Nothing in her short and gentle life could have prepared her for what just had happened right next to her.  
Tarok stood up and walked towards Lara. She couldn’t see him, but judging by the looming shadow that was blocking out the light, he was standing right in front of her.  
Lara lifted her head just in time to see Tarok bent over, his left hand reached to her. Lara recoiled and crawled away from Tarok. No hand touched her, however. He retracted his hands and stood up straight. A forlorn look filled his eyes before he turned his attention to the wooden staff at his feet. Lara had let go of it while scurrying away from Tarok.  
Raising his leg so that his thigh was at a right angle with his calf, Tarok stomped his hoof on the purple orb. For a split second, it didn’t seem the magical gem would break, but the force of Tarok’s leg forced the crystal-like material to give way, and the orb shattered into a thousand pieces. The moment the orb broke, flashes of blinding light poured forth from it and a massive shockwave flew through Lara like a gush of stormy wind. Then the shockwave dissipated, as sudden as if had appeared. At his hoof, there were only colorless shards of broken glass with no purple tint.  
With the magical gem gone along with its magic, the floating candles began dropping down to the ground, making small “thud” sounds all around the room. None hit Lara nor Tarok, but some of them landed on wooden furniture, flickering flames licked the hanging tapestries and wooden objects. Soon, small fires started to spread everywhere around them.  
Tarok surveyed the room before pausing at the double doors on the opposite side. But he didn’t walk towards it yet. Instead, he turned towards Lara. Despite her fright of him, he walked deliberately to her and in one swift motion, swept her up in his arms. Lara screamed when he touched her, but he held firm nevertheless, denying Lara’s any chance to wiggle out of his grasp. With determined steps, he walked towards the door. He raised his left foot and kicked it and the slab of wood collapsed to the ground. With her face protected by her arms, Lara saw nothing but felt her quaking body rose and fell with each of Tarok’s steps before she fainted from exhaustion.


	5. Saved

Lara felt something hot touched her face. She winced and caught the thing with her hands. It felt rough and crumpled easily, leaving a stinging hot sensation on her fingers. She opened her eyes.  
A giant tree, as big around as a small town square and at least 200 feet tall, was burning fiercely. Lara saw huge columns of roaring fire enveloped the tree. At the top, the tree disappeared into one enormous cloud of high-rising black smoke. Lara sat under a birch tree about fifty yards away from the fire and could feel the heat emanating from that blazing inferno. Ashes from the fire, which were carried up by the heat, fell like gray snow around her. Despite the intensity of the fire, it thankfully couldn’t spread. The tree stood alone on a small island in the middle of a lake, therefore, any pieces of burning wood or ash would fall into the water. There’s no strong wind either.  
Lara looked at the lake. There’s a moss-covered stone bridge raised slightly above water and served as the only path from the outside to the island. The stone bridge ended as a short footpath began, leading to a burning circular structure that was built into the tree, with roots as wide as a human waist that acted as support columns. Lara could see the charred remains of a door lying on the ground with red veins of flame crisscrossed on it. So this tree was what’s left of Melisza’s lair.  
This was a beautiful place. Lovely, even. Seeing it burn like this could put any nature-loving poet into a melancholic mood. But that poet didn’t know anything about Melisza and her nefarious activities at this hidden sanctuary. It is probably best that this place burned down, together with the horrific memories inside of it.  
She looked down at her hand. The thing that singed her earlier turned out to be a half-burned leaf. But Lara noticed something else on her wrist. Something…red?  
Blood!  
She examined her body frantically. The right side of her white dress was doused with patches of drying blood. Lara scrambled to the nearby water bank and looked at her reflection. Her right cheek was covered in blood too. But she didn’t feel any pain, nor did she find any wounds on her body. She quickly washed herself. Then she remembered about Tarok.  
Where is he? Lara surveyed around her. He wasn’t here. Lara shut her eyes to concentrate. He definitely got out of the fire, because she did too. She remembered being carried outside of the circular room, her body pressed tightly against his. The blood on her dress must have come from his stab wound, and judging from how red her dress was, he’s in grave danger.  
Returning to the spot where she woke up, Lara searched for clues as to where he might have gone. There were big visible hoof prints twice the size of her own feet leading away from where she stood. Her heart clenched when she saw droplets of blood accompanying each hoof print.  
With no hesitation, Lara set out to find Tarok. She ran along the blood-spotted track, careful not to lose sight of it. The forest floor was unkind to her feet, and she tripped several times over tree roots and rocks, yet Lara ventured on. She didn’t have much time left. Even though the sun was still above her head, it’s well into the afternoon now and soon the last vestige of the day would die. Then all around her would be darkness, and she would be alone in it. Shaking her head to expel the terrifying thought, Lara bit her teeth, forced back the habitual tear and refocused on her mission, scanning the ground to stay on track. _Be brave, Lara. Be brave_  
After an hour, her search ended when she stumbled, almost face first, into a small, circular glade. Tarok was sitting on the opposite side a few feet from her, his back against an oak tree. The situation seemed dire: his shuttered eyelids twitched irregularly, his head drooped to one side, his chest rose and fell slowly with each laborious breath, droplets of sweat dotted his wrinkled forehead.  
Lara breathed calmly to think of what to do. The blood on his chest made her feel nauseous, she’d never liked the sight of it. But right now, that's where she must focus her attention because the wound needed to be cleaned before putrefaction set in. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything she could use to clean him. She had nothing except the clothes on her.  
Of course, her clothes. Lara bent and tore at the hem of her ankle-length dress. The flimsy material easily gave way and Lara quickly had a bunch of cloth in her hand. She walked on tiptoe towards him slowly to not startle Tarok, a precaution she didn’t need as the grass muted her footsteps.  
Lara stopped in front of him. She saw the grimace on his contorted face. She withheld her breath when she saw how much pain he suffered. The knife was lodged up to the handle in Tarok’s upper pectoral muscle. It seemed the stab missed his vital organs, otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to walk this far. Thankfully, the blood had clotted around the knife, which stopped the bleeding. With proper bandages, Tarok can be saved. She knelt and reached for his forehead to wipe the sweat on it.  
As soon as he sensed something touched his head, Tarok acted by reflex. In one swift movement, he pulled Lara violently to his torso with his left hand, despite the injury on that side of his chest, and his right hand clutching tightly at the hand Lara used to clean him. Lara was immobilized with the grappling hold and let out an involuntary whimper into his hard chest while Tarok gasped at the teeth-gritting pain caused by his sudden movement. He looked at the intruder, the pain blurred his vision, but the familiar softness of the person he’s holding combined with her scent informed him.  
“Lara. What are you doing here?” he said. Tarok struggled to gather breaths to speak.  
“My hand,” Lara sobbed. Realizing he was overzealous with the grabbing, Tarok let her go. He watched in confusion as Lara kneaded her hand, still sniffling.  
“Lara, what are you doing here?” He repeated the question.  
“I want to help you. That wound needs to be treated or you’re in serious trouble. I was going to wipe your forehead, but you grabbed me,” she explained to Tarok. He glanced at the bunch of white cloth in her hand.  
“Help… me?” A dazed look appeared in his eyes, not just because of the pain. “I don’t need your help.”  
“What do you mean you don’t need help? You’re bleeding. There’s a knife in your chest, for Verea’s sake. And no one’s around here who can help you but me.”  
Tarok huffed impatiently. “Dying is fine for me. Just leave me be.”  
“What?” Lara muttered in a shaky voice. She pulled the cloth to her chest, her eyes transfixed at the dying minotaur. “I don’t understand.”  
Tarok squeezed his eyelids shut and sighed before opening them again to look at Lara.  
“You heard about my past when we were in that tree. Revenge. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Ever since I was old enough to understand…argh…what an abomination I am, I had wanted to kill the evil witch that did this to me. And now I have done that, I can die in peace. Now you know. Go, leave me alone.”  
Having said it, Tarok dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and prepared to take the ultimate sleep. For a proud warrior like him, this is as fine a dead as any. After all these years, the end had finally come. He welcomed it like a long-awaited friend who had been denied hospitality because of his occupation with vengeance. And with the conclusion of this lifelong mission, he could finally let go. Yet complete satisfaction he did not feel. There was something intangible nagged at him, something buried deep within some corner of his consciousness that had been lying dormant for so long.  
“That…that’s just absurd.”  
Tarok awoke from his torpor and stared at Lara. Did this girl just call the purpose of his life absurd?  
“I just…I don’t understand. All you ever wanted in life is revenge? That’s no way to live.”  
Tarok’s gaze narrowed. Lara’s remark upset him. This had always been one of his oldest, deepest secrets, and he had not shared it with another soul. Only in his last moment living did he loosen his straps and confessed with the only person who’s with him. And this is the response? _She didn’t understand._ Tarok couldn’t remember the last time this had happened, but he was on the defensive. Tarok gritted his teeth as he sat up.  
“Easy for you to judge. A girl like you couldn’t imagine what I’ve been through, and my mother-” He stopped, frowning at the wound. He cursed himself for moving. “Well, why did you care anyway? Doesn’t matter, any of this. Let me have my last moment in peace.”  
With that, he slumped back against the tree and shut his eyes. If he ignored her, she would leave soon. He had expected that his life would end with something grander and nobler than a petty argument with this silly girl.  
Tarok’s mind was beginning to wander into the abstract unconsciousness when he felt a fluffy softness pressing into his uninjured chest. He opened his eyes again.  
Lara had knelt and pressed her petite body into his, her hands clenched his shoulder. Even in this position, with him sitting down, her head was only on the same level as his shoulder. He saw she was shaking, but her downcast face was hidden beneath the silky black hair. Her hair smelled so nice, it somehow reminded him of his childhood. He felt a strange impulse to brush her back, to caress this weeping girl, but he didn’t. The reminder of his childhood surprised him so much, it stunned him.  
“Please, master, don’t give up. I beg you, please stay with me. Please, don’t leave me alone in this forest. Pleasepleaseplease,” Lara blubbered loudly. Her chest heaved with each sentence, her hands gripped Tarok’s shoulder harder.  
Her hysterical weeping shook Tarok. He hadn’t seen Lara so dismayed before, not even when she was crying on the stone floor in his bedroom.  
“Lara, calm down. Urgh. Look, the city is not too far away. It’s only a day walking. Just go east, then-” he said, but Lara shook her head repeatedly. She didn’t want to get out of here? No, that’s not it.  
“You don’t want to be alone?” he asked.  
Lara lifted her head. Her face was wet with tears, and the sight put a heavy weight in his heart. Again, he was surprised at this new feeling. It made him almost missed the slight nod from Lara.  
“Master, please let me take care of you. You can live. You can. Please don’t give up. You told me to not give up earlier, don’t you remember?”  
Tarok observed the disheveled girl with sober eyes. It was late afternoon now and daylight would be gone in about less than a couple of hours. Then, darkness would reign.  
Taking a deep breath, Tarok’s mind raced to think of a plan.  
Dying had to wait then.  
“Alright Lara, here what I want you to do…”  
\---***---  
Lara ran as fast as the sandals on her feet allowed without tripping over tree roots and rocks every ten steps. This part of the forest was even nastier than the span between Tarok’s glade and the lake. Luckily, the arduous trek ended when the soothing sound of flowing water welcomed her. She saw a small ankle-deep stream and sat down on a fallen tree to catch her breath. Even though it only took her about half an hour to get here from the glade, the tough terrain drained her energy like a scorching hot day.  
As she waded in the stream, Lara enjoyed the contrast between the refreshing coolness of the water and her burning feet. She repeated Tarok’s instructions in her head, “Go east until you reach a small stream, very shallow, lined with gravel, you’ll know it. Follow it until you see the dead bodies. That’s where I and my men were ambushed, I was separated from them. Gather any supply you can find and bring it back here.” When she had turned around and about to go, he gave one last command, “Be careful, Lara.”  
Lara looked above her head. The blue above her head had turned darker and blended naturally with the shade of old copper on the horizon. Even though the sun had touched the skyline, it was still bright enough to see. But not for long. Taking a begrudging sigh, Lara stepped out of the streambed into the bank and started running. Thanks Verea that the stream ran straight and the bank was lined with small pebbles, which made her journey much more pleasant.  
After ten minutes or so she reached the ambush sites. Corpses of four horses strew about on both sides of the stream, but their riders were nowhere to be seen. Until she looked up, then Lara almost screamed. Four human bodies hanged idly twenty feet above, there are fresh green vines wrapped several times around their bodies that seemed to have grown impossibly out of thick brown tree branches. This was definitely the work of Melisza. Their clothes were in rags due to slashes all over their chest and stomach, and there’s one common sight across four bodies: bloodstains on the necklines of their shirt indicated how their lives ended. And the smell! Although the corpses looked like they’re only a day old, the humidity accelerated the decomposition which made the bodies smell much worse than they should.  
Holding her breath and clenching her teeth, Lara started searching. Finding anything on the men’s corpses was out of the question, so she went over to the horses. There was a flask hooked on one of the saddles, still full, and three soaked backpacks that contained nothing usable. However, luck favored Lara with the fourth one, as it contained bread, some pieces of dried meat, raisins, and grains. There was also dried herb and a roll of bandage. This must have belonged to the man in charge of the supplies of the group, may Verea blessed his heart. Putting the flask in the backpack, Lara left the macabre scene behind and ventured back.  
The return trip was not as hard, she already knew how long it took to return and there should be enough time to reach Tarok before it turned dark. It was quiet here in this watery part of the woods, and the only sounds were the gentle burbling of the stream and occasional far-off chirping of unseen birds from all directions.  
Lara remembered the first time she traveled to the woods. When she was ten, after the harvest season, the crop was particularly abundant that year. So was the offering to Verea. To celebrate this occasion, her foster mother took Lara out for a short trip. Her mother went to the hunter’s lodge in the forest to buy some fox pelts, which was cheaper than in town, and some sausages as treat. Lara was so excited. She’d never been in the woods before because her mother always told her to stay away from it or the evil little imps might kidnap her and fed her to the giant man-eating rats living underground. Unlike her teaching, her mother was quite colorful with the cautionary tales. The wood was an entirely new concept for Lara. She’d never seen this much tree before. And they were so tall. Merinth was situated in the middle of a large plain, and the tallest thing she’d seen before was the two-story house of the chief of the merchant’s guild, which required her to lift her head slightly to see its roof. Here, though, there are trees whose tops were so high that she had to look up until the back of her head hurt. The short ones came in all kinds of shapes and their flowers bloomed with the gamut of vibrant colors that Lara didn't know what to call. So she made up some name, like "blurple" and "rellow".  
When her mother had got everything she needed and was ready to leave, Lara was still hopscotching from one place to another, trying in vain to chase a squirrel. Seeing the enthusiastic child, the hunter suggested that they stay for lunch since he had skinned a deer yesterday and had lots of extra meat. Seeing the reluctance on the old priestess’s face, and possibly the hopefulness on Lara’s, he explained further that his wife had died last year, and his only son was apprenticing for a fletcher in the city, so he missed the sound of children. Only when Lara had promised to play near the lodge did her mother agree to stay. So, for the whole morning, Lara explored the woods while her mother relaxed on a bench by the porch. Lara kept her words and stayed near the house. Yet later she still got into trouble: she tried to climb a beech when she thought none of the adults were looking. Lara chuckled when she pictured the little version of herself climbing a tree while wearing a white sundress, then she frowned when she remembered the resulting scolding. Her mother ignored her “It wasn’t very tall” and “I only reached for the lowest branch” excuses. Apparently, that was a very “unladylike” thing to do, oh, and also _extremely_ dangerous. As punishment, she had to endure two boring hours every night of the next fortnight sewing pelts to make winter coats.  
Lara sighed. After her tenth birthday, things started to change. The scolding became more frequent as Lara’s mother began to groom her for the life as a priestess of Verea. Her manners, clothes, and even how she talked were scrutinized; everything needed to be perfect to reflect her status as a future model lady. The mother gradually became the teacher. Lara didn’t resent her mother, she knew preparing her to be the next priestess was the only thing her mother knew how. She just wished she was at least given a choice, even if it was a token one; being an orphan, Lara had no relatives nor acquaintances who could take her in, she wasn’t educated in any skilled trades or crafts, she simply couldn’t be anything but became one of Verea’s faithful and served the community around her.  
Years went by, the active, lively child in her was replaced by a more demure, more mature adult. She had not time to play or have friends, instead, she was given lessons on the rituals and beliefs of the cult of Verea. Step by step she performed more and more rituals in place of her mother, who was getting weaker by the year. When she was 17, Lara had practically taken over all duties. One year later, her mother died. Lara was an inconsolable wretch; for three days after the funeral, she couldn’t stop crying. Harsh as her mother was, she was the only person who ever truly cared for Lara, even if it was in her own difficult way.  
For the first time in her life, Lara was without guidance, and only the sense of duty, drilled into her by the late mother, kept her afloat upon the sea of sorrows and uncertainty. She performed the daily rituals, kept the temple clean, greeted the visiting faithful, officiated weddings and tendered blessings. To fill the tendered blessings. To fill the giant aching hole in her life, Lara devoted her day to Verea; she needed guidance and a mother figure, so the merciful goddess of Love fulfilled the role naturally. Only with the comfort of Verea’s embrace did she manage to sleep on her lonely bed at night. In the evening, after praying for the joy and happiness of everyone, she would sneak in a personal plea, that she wouldn’t be alone anymore, that she would find a man who loved her soon.  
Loneliness. That’s what Lara had always dreaded. That’s what made Lara cried her heart out when her mother died. And that’s what made her wept hysterically by Tarok’s side an hour earlier. The fear was great enough that she would have wanted anyone, even Tarok-her tormentor, to be with her in this dark and cold night.  
Lara increased her pace.  
\---***---  
When she returned, Tarok was asleep. Lara dropped the bundles of twigs and dried leaves on the ground before setting the backpack down. She needed a fire first. With two pieces of flint she picked up from the stream, Lara soon got a campfire going, just in time for darkness to set in. She turned her attention to Tarok, who had woken up.  
Lara grabbed the bundle of cloth left on the ground in front of Tarok and doused it with the flask.  
“I’m going to clean you first, is it alright?” Lara asked. Tarok grunted his consent.  
Lara approached him gingerly and knelt at his folded leg. She was closed enough to hear the rumbling inside of his chest. Tarok watched her closely as she reached for his face first. Cool wet fabric brushed gently against the rugged features of his face, wiping away the salt of dried sweat, the soot and grimes of the fire, and, seemingly, the contortions of pain. When she reached down to his trunk-like neck, there was almost a serenity draped on his countenance.  
Lara was aware of his eyes on her every move. She felt a faint uneasiness from being watched, and a slight embarrassment because a male did it.  
“Master. Your shirt. I need you to remove it,” she said.  
“Just call me Tarok. I never like being called ‘master’” he said matter-of-factly. “‘It reminds the slave of his place’, they said. They were probably right. But I just find it stupid,” he added after seeing her blank stare. Moving his hands slowly to avoid disturbing the wound, Tarok ripped the shirt from the neck and carefully extended the tear downward, made a detour around the knife. Lara helped him removed the torn garb.  
Lara found herself trying not to ogle at Tarok. She had looked at his naked body many times before, but the distressing circumstance as being his slave prevented her from truly _seeing_. His chest was impressive. He had hard, defined muscles adorning his torso. His pecs were broad and pronounced, each as wide as her own face. Below them were the stony hills and deep valleys that formed his abdominal, and Lara could gleam the enticing V-shape of his lower abdominal that went further down into his trousers. His body was decorated with a multitude of scars large and small, telling the history of countless battles and violent encounters. The sheer display of power and masculinity sparked some inappropriate tingle inside of her. She quickly resumed her job to hide her own fluster.  
The dried blood below the knife took some scrubbing to clean off, but Lara was careful, Tarok had endured so much already. It was unreal that after losing this much blood he was still alive and talking, a normal human would have succumbed much earlier. Lara saw around the edge of the knife there was a thin beet-red crust of clotted blood, sealing the wound temporarily.  
“You know what to do next Lara?” Tarok asked.  
Lara nodded. “Yes, mas…, um, Tarok. There are some dried yarrow leaves in the backpack. I can make a poultice with them to stop the bleeding.” She searched the backpack and pulled out a handful of desiccated grayish-green mass.  
“Good. You do that. I didn’t expect a priestess to know anything about first aid.”  
“It isn’t required to know. But as a child, I tended to trip and scratch myself a lot. So, I must know,” Lara said. Despite the difficult task ahead, she felt a bit relaxed: they were making small talk.  
Lara washed the bloody rag with water from the flask. She then crushed the leaves in her hand, poured some water over it and squeezed until she had a soggy mess in her hand. Finally, Lara pressed the moist material to the wet cloth, and the poultice is done. She looked at the knife expectantly, her stomach churned with apprehension.  
Taking a deep breath slowly, Tarok gazed down at the knife. He gritted his teeth, his right hand grabbed the handle. His eyes went to Lara and saw that the girl was observing the ground beneath his hooves.  
“You’re not going to faint, are you?”  
Lara jumped, then she shook her head. Her apprehension seemed to amuse Tarok as he grinned weakly before bracing himself.  
In one swift motion, he yanked the knife out of his chest. The explosive pain was excruciating and Tarok dropped the knife, his eyes squeezed shut. For a second, he could feel nothing but paralyzing pain; however, the reeling shock passed quickly, leaving a shivering numbness on his chest. When he opened his eyes again, Lara had washed his wound and pressed the poultice to it. Lara hurriedly secured the poultice with a few loops of bandages around his torso.  
When everything was done, Tarok resumed slumping against the tree. He panted hard while Lara examined her handiwork. She had never done a full chest bandage wrap before. For a first-timer, she did a decent job. The bandage was tight enough and there was only minimal bleeding.  
“Th-thank you, L-Lara,” Tarok uttered breathlessly and quickly drifted off, his ragged breathing slowed down to normal.  
Lara sat where she was, watching Tarok to make sure the bleeding didn’t worsen. After ten minutes, she decided that the poultice had worked well. A good rest was all he needed right now and there was nothing more she could do.  
Lara sighed. At least one thing had gone right today.  
Lara foraged near the glade to collect more branches and twigs. After carrying two bundles of wood back she decided she had enough firewood for the night. The food could be enough for both of them, at least for two days if they rationed it. She hoped so.  
Lara sat down and watched the fire. Everything is well enough. Well, almost everything. She looked at herself. Her body was dirty, her hands covered in dirt and her feet in mud. The dress fared even worse: it was stained with both and dried blood. Lara hated grubbiness. Being a Verea’s priestess meant she had to keep herself clean, both inside and outside. While taking a bath once a month or even, Verea forbade, once a year was the standard for people around her, she took a bath every day and prided herself for her cleanliness.  
Lara looked in the direction of the stream. It was only thirty minutes away.  
Also, with the full moon on this cloudless night, there wouldn’t be total darkness like she had fretted. She could find her way around.  
Lara looked at Tarok. She doubted her sleeping master would be angry if she took some time for herself. Besides, it wouldn’t take long.  
Oh, and the flask needed to be refilled. That’s it. That’s her job right now. Refill the flask.  
Lara set a few slices of bread in front of Tarok in case he woke up. Picking up the flask, she tiptoed out of the glade and ran towards the stream.  
\---***---  
If some night traveler was crossing the forest at night and stumbled upon a small stream, lined with small round pebbles, and if he walked past a fallen tree on the bank, he would think he was in a dream, because in front of him a woman was sitting on a flat white boulder. Her slender backside would captivate his gaze with her mouth-watering elegant curves. Her skin was paler than the rock and shone even brighter than the rippled moon submerged underneath her dangling feet, her wet hair glistening under misty light as if it was made of quicksilver. That traveler would stand rooted as he watched this water nymph humming a tune known only to the river gods of the deep. But then, amazement would turn to confusion when he observed the beatific nymph recoiled in an undignified manner when a cool late autumn breeze passed by.

Lara shivered as she dropped down from the boulder. She had been sitting there for five minutes, waiting to dry off, but the breezes had made that difficult. She’d rather be wet for now and dried herself by the warm fire later than suffered more of these bone-chilling gusts of wind. Lara strolled towards the fallen tree to fetch her dress, which was draped over the trunk.  
It was strange bathing in the forest, Lara thought. She was sure no one was watching, but she checked anyway before stripping. How silly of her for doing that. The only thing that she could found eyeing her was a frog on the other bank. Lara wondered for a second if there was a prince behind those bulgy eyes. If there was, then he must be a very happy prince.  
When Lara was a few steps away from the tree trunk, a strong gust of wind flew by. Lara froze, not just because of the wind, but also because she saw the dress flew graciously up, peaking at ten feet in the air, and flowed in beautiful rippling waves down into the water.  
\---***---  
Lara sneezed. She felt like a walking icicle, her legs wobbled from trying to run and shake at the same time. Right now, she wished nothing more than to sit by the campfire again. Thankfully, she could see the warm glow of it right now.  
When she barged into the glade, Tarok was already awake.  
“Where did you go?” he asked.  
“I was, at the stream, fetching water,” replied Lara, raising the goatskin flask slightly.  
“Why are you wet like that?”  
“I, um, I was bathing, and my clothes fell into the river.”  
It was then that Lara noticed his gaze had dropped from her face to her body and currently creeping lower. She looked down. Back in the stream she couldn’t see clearly under the dim moonlight, but in the illuminating campfire, Lara watched in horror how the semi-transparent wet fabric had clung to her body, accentuating the curves of her body. More embarrassingly, she saw her twin hard pink peaks poking the front of her dress. To add more crimson to her rapidly redden cheeks, the dress’s hemline, which hung mid-thigh after she tore it, was pushed further up during her rush to return, exposing almost all of her thighs.  
Lara immediately flopped down as close to the fire as she could, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and strategically folded her legs, her eyes downcast to hide her mounting shame.  
For a moment there was only the warm crackling of the fire. The fire was the only thing between Tarok’s eyes and Lara.  
“There’s some food before you.” Lara's voice rang out from her hair-veiled face.  
“I know. I’m not hungr-”  
“Please eat it.”  
“Lara I’m not-”  
“Pleasee.”  
Tarok’s eyes didn’t leave Lara. When her body hunched forward like that, she looked like a wet cat that’s guilty of something. That’s kind of charming. Charming? He mentally added that to the list of new thoughts that had recently materialized in his mind.  
He picked up a slice of break and was about to bite it, then he looked up as if remembered something.  
“Do you want to eat?”  
“No.”  
Tarok put the piece of bread down. “I won’t eat if you won’t.”  
“I will, but later. I just need a moment to dry my clothes. I promised.”  
Tarok rolled his eyes and began his supper. “You know, if you don’t want me to look, you can just ask,” he said after swallowing his first slice and grabbed the second.  
Lara stayed silent. For a while no one said anything. Occasionally she would glance up and saw Tarok being fascinated with either the bread or the ground or the trees on his side, basically anywhere but the girl sitting opposite him. She drew a thankful breath and loosened.  
After a while, the dress lost its last bit of moisture, and therefore its transparency. Lara felt confident enough to stand up and walked to Tarok to grab her dinner. She sat down and nipped the bread timidly, not forgetting to hand the flask over to Tarok, who took two swigs from it.  
When Lara had done with her meal, there was only an awkward silence…  
…which got progressively more awkward.  
Lara coughed and spoke first, disrupting the choir of crickets, “Are you feeling better, Tarok?”  
“Certainly. Just a little dizziness, but I’ll live. All thanks to you. That’s a great job you did, patching me up and gathering supplies.”  
“Thank you. I’m glad to hear it.” She smiled at him.  
He replied with a tired smile of his own. “I didn’t have the chance to say this before, but you are very brave Lara.”  
“Brave? Me? That’s kind of you to say, but I’m not,” Lara quickly dismissed the compliment but couldn’t help but reddened a little. She’s not used to praises.  
“Nonsense. You are brave,” Tarok reasserted. “Look at me. I’m alive because of you. You saved me, Lara. That fire, the food I ate, all thanks to you. Hell, you helped me defeat Melisza,” he said in a passionate voice. He looked as if he had swung his arm around if he wasn’t wounded.  
Lara’s face darkened at the mention of Melisza’s name. Tarok saw it and cringed. He shut up.  
“Lara,” Tarok called to her. The gentleness of his voice reminded Lara when he pleaded for her to be brave. She looked up to him. “I know what I did at Melisza’s lair was harsh and cruel. It had to be done. But,” he inhaled and sighed, “I regretted that you have to witness it.”  
Lara listened to him and gave a slight nod.  
“Tarok, why did you leave me at the lake?” she asked.  
"Umm." Tarok coughed. “When I came to destroy to gem, I saw how you look at me. The same look of disgust that I have gotten since I was young. I figured the last thing you want was to see me again, so I left you there by the lake. At that moment I just thought that, well, you can figure a way to get out of the forest. Guess I was wrong.”  
“It’s not disgust. I’m just…shocked. You strangled Melisza, right next to me, how did you expect me to react,” Lara complained. “When I woke up and I didn’t see you, I was so scared.” She looked at her lap and didn’t see the surprised look on his face. “Besides, even if I knew the way out of here, I wouldn’t leave. You were wounded. You needed help. I couldn’t leave you alone in here to die.”  
“You… would? You would stay to help me?” asked the minotaur.  
“Of course. You are my master, and you had protected me. Then I, as your slave, will take care of your need,” Lara answered dutifully.  
They said nothing more after that. Both of them looked at the fire for a while.  
After an owl began to hoot, Lara said crisply, “I think I should go to sleep. It’s been a long day. You should sleep too, Tarok.” Lara stood up, walked to the opposite side of the fire and lied down.  
Lara closed her eyes, yet she couldn’t sleep. The night was cold, even the slightest breeze caused Lara to shiver violently. She slept facing the fire, and as a result can only keep her front warm, while every inch of her back screamed with agony when a whiff of night wind flew by. The flimsy fabric of her dress didn’t offer any insulation, and she couldn’t move any closer to the fire without burning herself.  
_So cold._  
“Lara. Lara. Come here. I need help,” Tarok called to her.  
Lara blinked several times and quickly pulled herself up. “What’s the matter? Are you bleeding?” Lara asked as she approached him.  
As soon as she was near enough, Tarok swung his right arm around Lara, grabbed her firmly by the waist and pulled her to the uninjured side of his chest. The grab was sudden but not too violent, and Lara was pressed to him before she realized what happened, her face met his chest.  
“What are you doing?” Lara screamed and tried to wiggle. However, Tarok, despite his weakened state, was still too strong for her.  
“Calm, Lara, or you may attract the wolves,” Tarok said calmly, his arm strained to contain the distraught girl.  
“Wo–wolves?” Lara whimpered and quit struggling. Closing her eyes and inhaling sharply, she said, as calm as she could, “Tarok, why are you doing this? Please, let me go.”  
“Are you cold? I saw you shaking when you sleep,” he said.  
Lara peered up at him in utter confusion.  
“I’m not hurting you if that’s what you think,” he added quickly when he sensed fright in her brown beady eyes. “I just think, you should sit right here with me. Then you can stay warm. Sorry, I pulled you in, but I’ve got a feeling you wouldn’t agree otherwise.”  
“That’s…what you want?”  
Tarok nodded. “I want you to be comfortable. I swear I won’t do anything inappropriate.”  
Lara thought for a second. His body was indeed warm, and she could feel her back melting with joy due to the heat from his melon-sized hand. But an objection bubbled up immediately in her head.  
“I don’t trust you,” she uttered. Her rebuke took Tarok aback.  
“On my second night on your bed you said you would give me time with my virginity, but then you threatened me with anal sex,” Lara said. Her voice shook with emotions.  
“That…what I said was your real virginity, not the other—,” Tarok said, but shut up immediately when he saw Lara’s petite body shaking. She was distraught and not listening.  
“Please, Tarok. Let me go,” begged Lara.  
Tarok inhaled, then said, “Lara. You might not believe me, but I swear with all my life, this is true. I wasn’t going to do it. It was a stupid jest. Stupid and vile. I knew you were not ready. I never forced that on my slaves or any girls. My intention was just to scare you. I was waiting to see you frightened, then I would release you. It was a fell jest, nothing more. I swear. I didn’t mean to actually do it.”  
The traumatic memory replayed in Lara’s head. It could be true. He _did_ let her go, at the same time that Lara plunged forwards to his neck. That’s why she overshot his neck and kissed him instead.  
Lara sat still on his lap, yet she wasn’t fully convinced. Tarok let go of Lara’s back. She gingerly removed herself from his chest, although a tiny part of her brain yelled at her to keep pressing her face in his warm, muscular chest. It was so comfortable.  
Suddenly, Tarok squeezed her hand, and when he let go, Lara saw a knife in her palm—the knife that stabbed Tarok, its blade still had some dried blood.  
“Take this. If I try anything vile or vulgar with you, then slit my throat or stab me in the heart with this,” he said firmly. Seeing Lara’s face grew softer, he pressed on, “Lara, I hate seeing you shiver in the cold. I swore nothing inappropriate will happen. Besides, it would be really embarrassing if you survive that evil witch, then died of a simple cold.”  
Lara thought a moment. Then her eyes turned to the knife. Finally, she stood up, turned around, and sat down, her back to Tarok. Without looking at Tarok, she threw the knife into the fire. It made a “thud” sound and disappeared beneath the flames.  
“I don’t want to touch anything from that witch,” she said. “And it is a great insult to a priestess of Verea to suggest she commit violence.”  
Tarok opened his mouth to apologize but Lara was quicker. She turned around to face him, tiny sparks of tinder flared in her eyes. “And you swore. If you try anything, then I…I will…” Lara trailed off. In her impulsive hotheadedness, she forgot that she had never made a threat to anyone before and found herself without anything menacing to say. “…then I don’t know what I’ll do.”  
She did an about-face and sat back down, her back to Tarok. Her face grew red, but not because of the anger. Just great, she thought, she’d picked the lamest thing she could say.  
Tarok bit his teeth to avoid snickering. Not one of his slaves, not one of his men, hell, not even Erika had dared to yell at him before, and this girl sitting between his legs had just done it. But he didn’t feel even a speck of anger, only amusement.  
“Fine, fine. You have my word. Don’t want to be yelled at again,” he said half-jokingly. Lara said nothing and just folded her legs into a square, she smoothed her dress to cover her legs as much as possible.  
Tarok slowly put his right hand around her midriff, his palm pressed against her belly, covering it. His other hand was put on her left knee. He didn’t do anything more than that.  
Lara watched as he embraced her. Being bashful, Lara would’ve complained but felt too good to object. In the end, she decided that she could live with this.  
“You could lean on me to sleep. Mind the wound, though,” he suggested. She was sitting upright; her back an inch away from him. Then Lara slowly leaned back and almost moaned. His body was _really_ warm. Out of the blue, she wondered how it must feel to sleep like this while holding his arm like a hugging pillow but quickly pushed that strange idea away.  
As comfortable as she was, Lara didn’t feel sleepy. The little commotion with Tarok had made her wide awake. She tipped her head up to find Tarok’s eyes on her.  
“You said there are wolves?”  
“Um,” he mumbled weakly, his eyes shifted. “I’ve never seen one in this forest, and neither did my men.”  
“Wait. So, you don’t know for real if any wolves live here?” Lara raised her voice.  
“But if there are,” he said quickly, “I wouldn’t worry much if I was you. I’m sure their bellies would be full after they have eaten me, so you’ll be fine.” He held his breath.  
“That’s not funny!” she protested and whisked her head down.  
Tarok breathed out carefully. She didn’t get up and walk away, that’s good.  
He inhaled and notice a faint pleasing scent. It was from Lara’s hair. He discretely dropped his head lower and breathed in. It was the same scent that he smelled from her in his bedroom. It didn’t ring a bell then. Now, he remembered this scent from long ago but hadn’t encountered it again until Lara showed up. A flower, yes, and it was white. He tried to remember, but the name of it eluded him. He inhaled again. Was it…?  
“Are you…sniffing me?” Tarok realized Lara had turned around. He swallowed.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he uttered and pulled his head back up. “Your scent just caught my nose. Did you use perfume?” he said quickly.  
“No, not perfume, I can’t afford it. It’s just honeysuckle oil. I use it on my hair and body as a general medicine. How come you still smell it? I last wear the oil two nights ago.”  
“See my muzzle? I have a better sense of smell than humans. I can smell the oil, but only faintly. Very pleasing nevertheless. I remembered long ago, there used to be a scrub of white honeysuckle near the garden. Every summer I enjoy the aroma it gave off, and yet I didn’t know the flower’s name until now.”  
“You had a garden?” Lara blurted without thinking.  
“It was my mother’s. We lived alone in a forest very far up north of here. We grew our own food. She grew everything in there: cabbages, carrots, beets, plenty. I did the hunting, usually elk and deer, sometimes wolves. I skinned them to cut the meat. Mother cooked dinner,” he said casually. His forehead wrinkled when he tried to remember the details.  
“You hunted wolves?” Lara gasped.  
“Sure, I just waited for one of them to lunge at me, swung my axe, and they dropped like a sack of dirt. They have pointy teeth, but I have thicker skin. For elks and deer, I just set traps. They’re too fast for me.”  
“You don’t use a bow?”  
Tarok chuckled. “Look at my fingers, what kind of bow can I hold?” He raised his right hand.  
Lara looked and agreed. His fingers were two times her own and definitely not as flexible as humans.  
“You looked stunned, Lara. Don’t believe me?”  
“No, I believe you. It just that, it is difficult to imagine you came from that life to be the leader of a mercenary band.”  
His face darkened. Lara became worried, she feared she might have said the wrong thing. However, Tarok’s features relaxed as he inhaled and spoke.  
“I was sixteen when my mother passed away. We live alone, and she was the only person I ever knew. I did many stupid things after that. Eventually, I joined a mercenary band. The one that I’m leading now. Unlike many others, they had no problem having a beast among their rank. We were all the same, the dregs and scums of the earth, the kind you approach with squinted eyes and withhold breath, the kind that you throw money at to solve problems which even the poorest knights would spit at you for even suggesting. I was so pathetic back then. When I first joined them, all I know about fighting was how to swing an axe. I had to learn fast, just to barely survive. My strength and size were the only things that kept me alive for the first year.” He closed his eyes momentarily. “Eventually, the leader, Markus, the swine that he was, planned to kill a miller and his family just to rape his daughter. There was no reason for it except he saw her walked by outside the tavern. I had enough. I was sick of wanton murders like this, not to mention his numerous dirty ‘side work’. So, I crushed his head against a wall. Afterwards, I challenged the others for leadership. No one contested. After that, the only killings we did were on the battlefield.”  
“I’m sorry about your mother. I know how hard it is to lose one. I’m sorry that you have to go through it alone.”  
When Lara’s mother died, she had the support of the villagers for a time. It still hurt when she occasionally remembered the weight of her loneliness back then. She shuddered to imagine how Tarok must have felt.  
“Do you think of your mother often?” Lara asked after a moment of silence.  
“No. Not for a very long time. Not until today.” He looked at her. Unreadable emotions swirled behind those human eyes. His mother's eyes, Lara instinctively knew.  
“You should sleep, Tarok. You need rest for the wound to heal,” Lara said.  
“You should sleep too, Lara. You’ve done a lot today.”  
“I think I’ll stay up for a little longer.”  
Tarok gaze remained on her for a few seconds more before he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Minutes later he was snoring peacefully.  
Thanks to the much-needed sleep, Tarok’s face was serene and calm. Strands of his hair fluttered slightly in the light breezes, swirling above the bushy browns. Without the pronounced muzzle and the oval fluffy ears, Lara reckoned he would look mostly human, maybe even a handsome one.  
Handsome?  
Lara shook her head, somehow blushing at the strange thought.  
The only sounds surrounded them were the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustling of leaves. No howling wolves so far. Lara threw some more twigs into the fire and stoked it with a long stick. The roaring fire should last until morning.  
Despite feeling warmer than before, Lara’s hands, which rested on her lap, was still cold. She thought of hugging herself but doubted it will be much help. No, she needed something warmer. Lara eyed longingly the giant hand that had been covering her midriff and providing warmth to her belly. She looked up. Tarok was definitely soundly asleep.  
Lara extended her arms and wrapped her hands around Tarok’s warm fingers, being careful not to wake him. He did not. She decided to keep them like this for a while and would retract her hands later. He wouldn’t know.  
Lara relaxed her body. The nervousness when she first sat with Tarok had dissipated and replaced with comfortable doziness. Lara noticed, despite being in the middle of a forest at night, she felt safe and warm.  
Lara probably would have realized one more thing, that this was the first time she’d slept together with anyone besides her mother, but she didn’t. Her eyelids grew heavy, and in the length of an owl hooting, she was asleep.


	6. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 5 chapters, things finally get steamy! I'm really proud of how this chapter turns out, and I hope you enjoy it too.

Morning came slowly. The sun, seemingly impeded by the cold and depressing air, crept lazily up the cloudless sky, shining softly above the trees.  
A frozen ray of light peered through the leaves and shone on Lara’s face, waking her up. She blinked several times before she was fully awake. The sleep she had was dreamless.  
Sitting with Tarok to sleep turned out to be a great idea, as Lara woke up feeling warm and cozy despite the chilly morning. Had she been at home, she would immediately crawl further under the blanket and went back to sleep. Alas, her home was far away, and she had a long day ahead.  
Sleeping in a sitting position made Lara’s body ached, and she felt a great urge to stretch. However, as she moved to raise her arms, she found her hands stuck. Lara looked down to find them wrapped snugly inside Tarok’s big palm. She stared at her hands, blinked several times, and finally remembered: she’d secretly hold his hand for warmth last night and forgot to pull hers back. Somehow, during his sleep, Tarok had grabbed them, quite tightly she found.  
Lara wrung her hands lightly. No use. She thought about pulling harder but decided against it. There’s no way she could free them without waking him up, and even if she did, it would be very rude.  
Lara couldn’t believe she had forgotten to pull her hands back. _It’s all because he was so warm._  
“Tarok,” Lara mumbled as if she didn’t want him to hear her.  
He didn’t.  
She called again, this time a little louder. Tarok’s still snoring.  
“TAROK.”  
His eyes flung open. He was immediately alert; his eyes scanned the surrounding.  
“What is it? Something’s wrong?” he asked quickly.  
Lara looked at her lap.  
“Can you, um, release my hands?” Lara said, feeling her face getting hotter.  
The request perplexed Tarok until he saw his right hand and what he was holding.  
“Huh? I didn’t remember grabbing your hand.”  
“I know you didn’t. Can you let go?” murmured Lara.  
Tarok didn’t let go. “Do you know how this happened, Lara?”  
“…”  
“Lara?”  
“I was cold, alright. Could you…? Please?”  
Tarok opened his palm and her hands retreated. Lara squeezed and rubbed them, although there was no reason to do so—she wasn’t in any pain. She could feel Tarok’s questioning gaze on her neck.  
“So you were cold, and?” Tarok persisted.  
“So, um, I thought…your hands were there, so I hold…” Lara stuttered and stopped talking. Her face had the color of a ripe strawberry.  
“Hmm,” muttered Tarok with a smirk. “Alright. I see. That’s fine. After all, I’m the only one who promises not to do anything inappropriate here.”  
When he said that, the strawberry shade of Lara’s face turned overripe. Fortunately for her, Tarok did not see her face nor pursue the matter further.  
Lara stood up. “I should gather more firewood before the tinder extinguished,” Lara said while she smoothed her dress.  
“No need. We’re leaving,” Tarok said.  
Lara turned around and stared at him. “But you’re not well. The wound needs more time to heal,” she protested. “Please don’t push yourself, Tarok.”  
“I’m not. I am well enough to walk.”  
“How?”  
To answer her, Tarok reached up, grabbed the tree behind him, and slowly pulled himself up. Lara saw a grimace briefly flashed on his ragged face, but it went away immediately. He was tall enough that his right horn scraped a branch. Tarok turned to the branch, clutched it tightly with his right hand, and in one swift movement, he twisted the wrist-thick branch like it was made of unbaked dough and yanked it hard enough so that it almost peeled off the tree.  
He turned to face Lara. “See? I’m fine,” he said with a confident smile.  
Lara realized her mouth was agape and quickly closed it. She knew that all those muscles weren’t just for show, but seeing a live demonstration was truly eye-opening.  
“But... how? You were dying yesterday.”  
“Minotaurs heal quickly. That how we were made by the god of mountains, Palpinos was his name I think.” He scratched his forehead. “I knew the way back. We should be back at camp by afternoon if we walk without break,” he said. Then he looked at her for a few seconds. Lara didn’t know why he stared at her without saying anything like that. Then, he looked up at the sun, picked a direction and started to walk.  
“Follow me, if you want,” he said, glancing back at Lara.  
“Of course, why would I want to stay here?” exclaimed Lara, and she ran after Tarok.  
The path was rough, as rough as yesterday. The ground was filled with rocks, protruding roots, tall grass, fallen trees, foxholes and more roots; Lara swore all of them seemed to be covered in moss. Being shorter than Tarok, Lara struggled to keep up with his pace, whereas Tarok barely had any trouble—his stump-like hooves crushed anything that’s not solid rock.  
“Ouch.”  
Tarok looked behind him and saw Lara stopped and leaned against a tree.  
“I tripped over a rock,” she said, rubbing her right foot. “Just go on ahead. I follow you laterrrrrrr—” Lara shrieked. Tarok had walked towards her and lifted her up in his arm as if she weighed nothing. With his right forearm bearing the bulk of her weight, her feet rested on his left hand, Tarok turned and resumed walking like nothing had happened. Lara lay frozen in his arms.  
“Wh—what are you doing?”  
“I’m carrying you, can’t you see?” he said casually as if it was the most normal thing to do.  
“Your wound, Tarok. You’re straining your left chest,” Lara protested.  
“It doesn’t hurt as long as I don’t swing my left arm. And I don’t. I just use it to carry your legs.”  
Lara stayed still for fear of kicking him in the wound.  
“Are you fully healed yet?” she asked.  
“No. In my experiences, a wound like this will take about two weeks to heal completely. But I’m not dying anymore,” he said, stepping over a dead tree.  
“Tarok,” she called to him after a few minutes. “You can drop me down now. My feet don’t hurt anymore.”  
Tarok looked down at her. Lara noticed a faint grin on his face.  
“No. Until we arrive at the camp, you stay, or rather lie, where you are.”  
“WHAT?” Her exclamation sent birds flying around them. “Don’t your arms get tired?” she asked after putting her voice back under control.  
Tarok stopped walking.  
“Tired?” he scoffed. “You probably weight less than my axe. Don’t worry, I can manage a little girl like you.”  
“All the way back to the camp?” Lara remained unconvinced.  
Instead of answering, he simply grinned at Lara ominously. Suddenly, Lara was in the air, her body rose a few inches and fell back into his arms. Only when Lara had landed did she realized Tarok had flung her up like a parent did to an infant. And she was too shocked to say anything.  
“See? I can even do this.” He grinned and did it again. This time she screamed and frantically flailed her arms around. Her hands found something and she latched to it, which happened to be Tarok’s neck. His smirk disappeared when he realized, at the same time as Lara, that their faces were practically two inches apart from each other.  
For a second, Lara froze. She had never been this close to those blue eyes.  
The next second, she let go of his neck and dropped down, surprised to find his arm catching her as if she had forgotten they were there. Her eyes never left his.  
Tarok swallowed. He blinked and turned his attention away from Lara and back to the path ahead. He began walking. The heat on Lara’s cheeks told her she was blushing. Lara folded her arms on her stomach.  
“That was, stupid of me. I won’t do it again,” he said, his eyes didn’t leave the road.  
The sun was high above the trees, provided the earth and its creatures with much-needed warmth to combat the depressing chilliness of the late autumn morning. Lara watched the sunlight shone down in rays like pillars of golden silk. It was beautiful. The forest seemed much more welcoming and charming in the morning.  
“Tarok. Thank you,” Lara said.  
“For carrying you? It’s nothing.”  
“Not just this. For everything. For saving me from the fire, and for staying with me last night. I’m extremely grateful,” said Lara. She noticed how his face seemed to glow in the morning light. He glanced at her. His face unreadable, but his eyes shone in the sunlight.  
“Take a nap if you want, Lara. I wake you up when we reach the camp,” he said, shifting his hands so that Lara could rest her head more comfortably against his broad chest. “Don’t kick me if you had a bad dream,” he grinned at her. Lara just feinted huffing.  
\---***---  
Tarok and Lara arrived at the camp late in the afternoon. Lara had her eyes closed throughout most of the trip, although she had only truly slept for an hour or so. He woke her up when the old fort’s tower was visible in the distance.  
Tarok was visibly anxious when they approached the fort. They walked past the outside camp, which was abandoned. Tracks of chaotic fighting were still fresh, but there are no dead bodies anywhere. The fort’s gate was closed when they reached it. Tarok called out to his men. For agonizing seconds, no one answered until a couple of heads poking up behind the wall. There was shouting inside and the gate was promptly opened.  
Lara heard Tarok exhaled in relief. Melisza had lied. She didn’t kill all the soldiers nor burn the camp down. Dozens of men, many wearing bandages, swarmed Tarok. They were glad to see their leader alive and peppered him with questions, but he brushed them aside. He held Lara’s shoulder and led her to the inner keep. Tarok was about to open the door when it flung open and they were greeted with a stunned Erika. She looked as if she was seeing two ghosts.  
“Take care of her for me. I’ll tell you everything later,” Tarok said to his secretary. He nudged Lara inside together with Erika and closed the door.  
Tarok explained to his men that he had personally killed the witch responsible for the attack and that the threat was over. After that, the men rode out, back to the forest to retrieve the bodies of the dead. There were ten who set out with Tarok three days before, four of them didn’t make it back. The remaining six broke through the surrounding treemen and retreated to the fort. They later told Tarok that the walking trees seemed only interested in him, and not them. That’s how they managed to survive. Those at the fort were too afraid to return to the forest to look for their comrades. The survivor at the ambush told everyone that they saw a witch, and magic scared northerners witless.  
As for the old woman, she was safe inside the fort when it was attacked. Casualties were light here as the soldiers quickly retreated inside and closed the door. They told Erika that the attack stopped when a giant bird appeared out of nowhere above them and flew into the forest. The treemen then promptly left too.  
At dusk, riders returned, carrying with them four bodies draped in white cloths. A pyre was set up outside the fort in anticipation of the dead. The bodies were loaded up onto the top and the pyre set afire. One of the men, an old man by the length of his beard, said something like a prayer but Lara couldn’t be sure. She was far away, and his voice was drowned by the crackling of flames.  
After the funeral, they gathered around a campfire outside the fort. “They’re mourning”, said Erika. They made speeches about the lives of the dead, their deeds and achievement as well as failures. Some laughed and some cried, but all were talking. Tears weren’t the only thing flowing though, as the mead and ale were brought out. Soon they were singing and dancing.  
“It’s the celebration of the lives of the dead. It’s how soldiers mourn,” explained Erika to the confused Lara. “In this line of work, where you and your comrade can die any day, it’s hard to be gloomy for long. It’s far better to cope with losses this way, and if alcohol could make it easier, then there’s no reason not to use it.”  
Lara sat in Erika’s office and observed outside events from the window in the room. Lara’s eyes had unconsciously followed Tarok all evening. His ebony exterior made it hard to find him at night, but the two ivory horns made him stand out from the crowd.  
After she had bathed and cleaned up properly, Lara went to fetch supper for both her and Erika. Lara told the old woman about her unexpected adventure: her capture by Melisza, Tarok’s torture, the witch’s defeat, how she saved Tarok’s life and the return trip. The old woman’s lips stiffened when she heard how Lara would be sacrificed. The history between Tarok and Melisza was of particular interest to Erika, she leaned forward to hear it more clearly.  
After hearing Lara’s entire story for the second time, Erika reclined in her chair, her mind pondered and her fingers fidgeted. The plethora of information put her in a pensive mood. Lara left Erika alone in her thoughts and observed the dancing fire. There’s an empty black kettle sat on the ancient mantelpiece. Next to it was an empty water jug. Lara noticed that the noise from outside had died down to occasional clangs of mugs. Seemed like the funeral was over.  
“So Tarok was ready to die until you pleaded with him to stay alive?” Erika suddenly asked.  
“Yes, that’s true.”  
“And you treated his wounds afterwards?”  
Lara nodded.  
“Anything else happened?”  
“Um,” Lara hesitated, then quickly added a “No” before Erika noticed. Throughout her story, Lara didn’t mention that she and Tarok had sat together to sleep. Lara was forthright with most, even the gory, details, but preferred to keep some to herself.  
“Well, it’s late,” Erika said, “Unless you want to join the men outside, you probably want to be in bed now. I won’t bother you any longer.”  
Lara stood up and walked over to Erika. She held the old woman’s hand.  
“Don’t say that, Erika. I’m glad to be back here, to see you again. I look forward to being your assistant again.”  
“Oh! Um, uh, that’s, nice to hear. You don’t need to say that to please me.”  
Lara stepped forward and gave her a hug.  
“I mean it. After all the madness I’ve been through, spending time with you and the books is all I want right now.”  
For the first time since she was here, Lara saw the old secretary smiled. She stood up and returned the hug to Lara.  
“I’m glad to see you again, too. I’m sorry for what you had suffered. You deserve so much better,” said Erika. “Tell you what, my office is opened to you every day. You don’t even have to work. If you want someone to talk to or keep company, just come. I won’t tell him.”  
“Thank you. I’ll come, but because I want to work for you. Having something to do every day helps me a lot, makes me feel like I’m a priestess of Verea again. But enough of that,” said Lara resolutely, “Do you need me to refill that water jug for you. It’s late and you don’t have water to use.”  
“Oh, blasted things. I forgot.” Erika glanced at the jug. “Should have done it in the afternoon, but you and Tarok came back from the dead and, well, never mind, I can handle it.”  
“No, no, let me do it. It won’t take long,” said Lara with a smile. Without waiting for Erika response, Lara grabbed the jug and walked out of the office. “I’ll be back soon.”  
Lara walked to the kitchen, fetched the water and walked back. The night air pricked her skin like ice-frosted needles. Even though she had changed back to the dull but longer servant dress, Lara still occasionally shivered.  
“I’m here,” announced Lara as she pushed the door open. And when it did, she almost dropped the jug.  
Staring at her was two pairs of eyes, and one of them was blue.  
“Just put it on the nightstand by the bed. Over there, thank you, you can leave now. Good night, Lara.”  
Lara strolled to the nightstand past Tarok, who was sitting on Erika’s bed. She heard Erika speaking: the old woman was reporting to Tarok about the situation of the camp.  
Lara set the jug down and turned around to walk to the door.  
But she didn’t make it to the door. Instead, two giant hands grabbed her hip, lifted her up and pulled her to their owner.  
Lara yelped when the minotaur picked her up. The cry alerted Erika. She looked up from the books and stared wide-eyed at Lara, who was sitting on her employer’s lap. Tarok’s right arm wrapped around Lara’s waist, his left on her knee.  
“What in gods’ name are you doing, Tarok?” asked Erika in a loud and stern tone that Lara had never heard before.  
“I just wanted to ask Lara a question,” he said calmly.  
“And you decided to do that by pulling her to your lap?”  
“I’m only asking a question. Would you like to stay for a little longer, Lara?” Tarok looked down at Lara. He pulled her closer, her back touched his chest.  
Lara didn’t struggle, partly because she knew she couldn’t wiggle out of his hold, partly because her skin melted when her back touched his chest. If yesterday he was warm, then today he was torrid. Even though her skin was separated from his by the rough fabric of her dress and his linen shirt, she could feel the heat emanating from his core. It gave her goosebumps.  
“Tarok, this is highly unusual. You know you can ask her all you want tomorrow, right? Let Lara retire to her bed,” said Erika forcefully.  
“It’s alright Erika. I can answer Tarok’s question,” said Lara calmly. She shifted a bit to a more comfortable position, ignoring Tarok’s hands on her belly and left knee.  
Erika’s eyes turned from Tarok down to Lara, they had opened even wider.  
“So, Lara. How did the witch capture you?” Tarok asked. His voice was soothing and gentle, nothing at all like how he used to sound the last time he and Lara were in this room.  
Lara answered thoroughly, recounting every detail that she remembered.  
“Melisza turned into a bird and captured you?”  
“She appeared as a bird-woman. I saw her behind me, then she swooped over and caught me. I fainted when I fell from the tower. When I woke up, I was in her lair.”  
His eyes were glazed over, Lara noticed. They haven’t left her since she began to talk. She wondered how much he drank. “The men keep saying that a giant bird flew over them and that was when the treemen stopped attacking and returned to the forest. You know what that means, Lara?”  
Lara shook her head.  
“I doubted the fort’s crumbling defenses could hold out long enough if a siege took place. The fact that the witch kidnapped you and abandoned the attack meant a lot of bloodshed was avoided. In other words, everyone who is alive in this fort today, in a strange way, owes you their thank, even Erika,” said Tarok, giving a nod at his secretary.  
Lara looked at her lap. “You’re exaggerating Tarok. I didn’t do anything. I just let myself be captured,” replied Lara meekly.  
“While it may be a coincidence that she found and abducted you on the tower, what happened inside her lair was no coincidence, Lara. Your action in that room saved my life,” he said. Lara could feel his gaze on the nape of her neck, as hot as his body. For the second time today, he made her blush. She felt grateful that the room was not very well lit.  
“Anyway, Erika. The report you were giving? Please continue,” said Tarok. He turned his attention to his secretary, his face became serious, his eyes sharpened. Lara seemingly was forgotten on his lap.  
Erika hesitated.  
“Well, what about her? She answered your question,” said Erika, gesturing towards Lara.  
“Lara? She can hear it, I’m sure there’s no harm.”  
Erika’s eyebrows furrowed as if she couldn’t tell whether Tarok misunderstood her on purpose or not. She glanced at Lara, who nodded very slightly.  
“Right… I was talking about the afternoon after the attack,” said Erika. She turned her attention towards the books.  
Lara sat very still. She stared straight ahead at Erika and listened. Hardly a minute went by before she felt movement on her knee.  
Tarok’s left hand, which had been resting there, started moving against the fabric. First, the fingers danced around her knee, then the entire hand dropped to her inner thigh. And when it started moving up, Lara panicked. She grasped his hand as stealthily as possible, trying not to alert Erika, and push it back to her knee. To her amazement, his hand stopped moving. Then it flipped over and wrapped Lara hand on its palm.  
Lara stared as Tarok caressed her hand, his thumb brushed the back of her hand repeatedly, the other fingers rubbed her palm. She could feel the roughness and calluses of his fingers. Even more surprising, Lara found she didn’t want to draw her hand back. He handled her hand very gently. It felt nice. Lara heard her heart drumming.  
Lara glanced up. Tarok didn’t look at her. His attention was still on Erika, who was looking down at her notes and was oblivious. She kept on giving out information. Lara dropped her head and looked at her lap. She tried to regulate her breaths, which had somehow gone out of control like her heartbeats.  
Things stayed that way for another minute, then Tarok moved again. This time, his hand on her belly pulled her a bit closer to him, and at the back of her head, Lara felt his muzzle gently digging into her hair. Lara didn’t need to look up to know what he was doing. It was the same thing she caught him doing in the forest. She had taken a bath earlier, and he had noticed.  
Lara closed her eyes, hoping the report would end soon. Her face had never been this hot before.  
“…and this morning, the mood in the camp still didn’t improve. Luckily—” Erika coughed violently. Lara opened her eyes and saw the old woman clutching her chest. “Sorry, I’m having a fit. The report will have to wait till tomorrow, I'm afraid. We should all go to bed now,” said Erika amid coughs. She turned her back to them and coughed some more.  
The coughing woke Tarok from whatever state his mind was in, and he straightened up. Lara was the first to get on her feet after she pulled her hands out from his palm.  
She grabbed the water jug and gave it to Erika. “Is there anything else I could do for you?” asked Lara.  
“No, I’m fine. My throat is dry, just need a glass of water. Don’t worry about it. Goodnight Lara.”  
Lara said goodnight and quickly left the room. When she closed the door, Lara saw Tarok bid farewell to Erika too and was about to head out.  
She walked briskly to the servant bedchamber. She tried not to look back. The sole sound of her footsteps vibrated along the empty corridor, yet she couldn’t even hear it over the loud thumping of her own heart.  
“Lara.”  
Her heart skipped a beat. She pretended not to hear.  
“Lara. Wait.”  
She stopped and turned around. Lara watched the minotaur approached. She noticed a lively smile on his face. He seemed excited.  
“Yes?”  
Tarok smiled withered somewhat when he saw Lara’s face. “Is something wrong, Lara?” asked Tarok.  
Lara bit her lips, then she said, “No, nothing’s wrong.”  
Tarok stepped closer and leaned forward, his face was near Lara’s. Standing at full height, he completely towered over her. Lara estimated that he must be at least one and a half feet taller than her, not counting the horns. She unconsciously had her back against the wall.  
“You looked unhappy, Lara. What’s wrong?”  
Her lips twitched. She took a deep breath and try to speak calmly, but the words came out like a rushed squeak, “Why did you pull me to your lap?”  
“You didn’t like it?”  
“That—that’s not the point, Tarok. We were in front of Erika. That’s not appropriate,” protested Lara.  
“Not appropriate? Don’t you worry about that. Erika lived among soldiers. Men. She had seen much more than that.”  
Lara started to get frustrated. _He just…didn’t get it._  
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” accused Lara.  
Tarok blinked. “Drunk? No, I’m not drunk.”  
“I saw you drinking with your men.”  
“I did. But I’m not drunk. Ale, mead, beer, they don’t affect me as much as humans. I don’t even like drinking it at all. My men drink and as their leader, I had to join in. That’s all,” said Tarok, shrugging.  
“Really?”  
Tarok nodded. “Minotaur don’t get drunk easily. The only effect bouse had on me is giving me this feverish feeling in my body.”  
This raised Lara’s eyebrows. “What do you mean?”  
Tarok put an arm on the wall behind Lara, his forearm brushed her ear. He leaned closer to her.  
“Touch my neck. You see,” said Tarok.  
Lara slowly raised her arm and placed her hand tentatively on his corded neck.  
“You’re burning!” exclaimed Lara. She withdrew her hand gingerly. The warmth still lingered on her fingers.  
“See, my body just gets hotter. That’s all. My mind is as clear as ever. I’m not about to fall over or slur my words, Lara,” said Tarok.  
“You’re still wounded, Tarok. I don’t think drinking heavily would help.”  
“I’ll live, Lara. But thank you for your concern.” Tarok smiled at her, then he cleared his throat. “Anyway, did you have a good sleep last night?”  
“Yes, I sleep very well. Thanks to your…warmth,” Lara said. She could smell the sweetness of ale in his breath.  
“That’s good. I, uh, I had something I want to ask you.” His glazed blue eyes looked straight at hers. Lara looked at him with great apprehension. She was sure her heartbeat was audible to Tarok, given how close he was to her.  
“I had a great rest last night too. And I think we should do it again, spend the night together, in my bedroom if you like.”  
“Your… bed?” repeated Lara. She suddenly remembered that she was, here and now, Tarok’s slave, and about her night duty to him that she had done two times before. “Yes, of course. I shall do my duty,” said Lara obediently.  
“No, you misunderstand me,” said Tarok quickly, “Lara, I’m asking you.”  
Lara’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re asking? Do you mean…I can say no?”  
“Yes, that’s what asking means. But…” Tarok paused. He placed a hand on her shoulder, “I would be very happy if you accept. You have nothing to worry about. I promised you’re safe with me.”  
Lara’s mouth opened slightly but no words came out. She felt as if her insides were expanding and contracting at the same rate as her heartbeat. She felt her innards heating up, but the warmth inside her was nothing compared to the hand that’s on her shoulder. Lara unconsciously contrasted the warmth on that hand and the cold, damp straw bed in the servant chambers.  
Lara nodded.  
Tarok breathed out. Lara realized he had been holding his breath the whole time. The lively smile returned on his face, which Lara found impossible not to reciprocate. He put his arm behind her, his hand rested on the small of her back and led her away. They walked towards his bedroom together. On the way, he grabbed a wall torch and carried it with him.  
Neither of them said anything during the short walk. They passed the stone arch and strolled through the short hallway. Tarok opened the door for Lara and closed it behind her.  
Here she was again, in Tarok bedroom. There was no light except for the milky moonlight spilling in through the window. Tarok walked to the fireplace and lit a fire with the torch.  
Lara sat on the bed, waiting. For what, she didn’t know yet. Moments later, Tarok joined Lara on the bed, sitting beside her.  
Minutes went by, Lara sat quietly while Tarok did nothing but admiring the girl sitting beside him. At long last, he made the first move. Tarok raised a hand carefully to her shoulder, one finger slipped beneath the shoulder strap of her dress, he tugged at the fabric until the strap slipped off her shoulder.  
Lara observed Tarok’s hand attentively, she felt the warmth and roughness of his fingers on her cool, sensitive skin. Tarok, on the other hand, didn’t look where his fingers went. His eyes were firmly fixed on her face, whose elegant features were further accentuated under the ephemeral moonlight. It was as though he was gauging her reaction.  
Tarok didn’t need to do the same for the other shoulder. Lara stood up by the bed, reached behind her back, undid the bodice straps and pulled the servant dress down. It pooled at her feet, soon it was joined by Lara’s underclothing. She sat down on the bed again, this time naked. Her skin tingled under the cold air. Lara didn’t attempt to cover herself, not because she was not shy—Lara could hear her inner insecurity screaming inside her head—she just simply shut it off. No. She felt safe here. Tarok had promised to keep her safe, and she trusted him.  
Tarok put his hands on her shoulder and hip and laid her down on the bed. He took one more minute to appreciate her nakedness from head to toe, then he took off his linen shirt but left his trousers on. He climbed on top of her, his knees on each of her sides. Tarok was so much bigger than her that looking from above, he completely eclipsed Lara. He leaned forwards so that his head hung directly above her. Tarok planted one hand on the bed right next to her right ear to keep balance and used the other to cup her cheek. His eyes were the color of a late day sky, his face wore a soft complexion. Lara could barely breathe.  
He leaned closer to her, a finger brushed her chin. His body was so close that the heat it radiated burned Lara’s core.  
“I want to thank you, for saving my life,” whispered Tarok. “If you feel uncomfortable, just say stop, will you?” Lara nodded in understanding.  
Tarok drew in a deep breath, then, slowly, he leaned down and kissed her.  
It was a chaste kiss, as light as a drop of morning dew. However, it was anything but for Lara. Her body seized and froze. Her limbs and head went rigid, but her innards turned to lava and flow freely from her lips down to her curling toes. Seconds passed as she lay impassively under the kiss’s spell until Tarok pulled off. Her lips shivered, her body felt so hot as if she had drunken the heat straight from Tarok’s mouth.  
Lara was surprised when she saw Tarok’s face: he was as breathless as she was, yet he seemed confused. What happened? Didn’t he felt what she just felt?  
As soon as she asked herself that, the answer came. Her reaction to his kiss was simply laying still. Tarok had no way to know how’s she feeling.  
Yet, Tarok must have felt something, because he tried again, albeit more hesitant this time. His lips once more sealed themselves around hers, but with more reservation. However, this time, Lara responded. Her knees raised slightly and scraped his thighs. Pulling at the sheets, Lara pushed herself slightly up and pressed her lips softly against his. How great a kiss that was: sweet and tangy, exactly how she had imagined her first kiss would be like as an adolescent girl.  
After a full minute of lip locking, Tarok again pulled back. His chest heaved from the long kiss. This time he got the message. A relieving and joyous smile spread across his face, and he quickly went back for another kiss. This one was even better than the last. Tarok pushed his head slightly harder against her. He lowered his body to her, his right hand slipped beneath Lara’s neck and caress her nape while the other, previously cupping her cheek, went south to stroke her body. His big, meaty hand brushed her side and then her back, his skillful fingers danced circles on her skin. It felt so good that she arched her body, her naked breasts met his bare chest. He was so hot, Lara could felt his searing thick muscle on her skin.  
Lara couldn’t discern how long they’d been kissing when Tarok suddenly broke off the kiss. She saw his eyes turned curiously sideways to look at her hands. They were wrapping around his neck, her fingers dug into his mane.  
Lost in passion, Lara had no idea how they ended up there. Suddenly, she’s afraid that she’d done something wrong and gingerly drew them back. Wrong move, as it turned out. Tarok caught her right hand and put it right back where it was and plunged into another kiss. _He liked it._  
Lara intertwined her fingers in his tangled mane and stroked his hair. For the first time, she heard Tarok groaned in pleasure. The low grumble inside his powerful chest sent shivers through her petite body. _He really liked it._  
Tarok broke off the kiss for the last time and immediately went for her neck. He rained short kisses on it. Lara gasped when she felt his tongue also lapping at her throat. A kiss, followed by a quick full tongue lick on her neck, and he repeated. Minutes went by, Lara laid writhing while Tarok feasted on her neck. Lara audibly moaned in pleasure, and her happy sounds spurred Tarok to double the pace of his tongue. She had to grip his mane in order not to go crazy from the incredible pleasure that his tongue was giving her.  
Lara didn’t know how long he nuzzled her, but it ended too soon when Tarok shifted downwards. She lifted her head and stared in wide-eyed shock as she witnessed her left breast disappear beneath Tarok’s lips. He gave a light, teasing suck and Lara gasped. After that, he put his tongue to work on her puffy nipple. Lara had to cover her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Her chest expanded and deflated in sync with each stroke of his flexible muscle. Lara felt her stiff nipple scraped the nubs of his tongue and it sent new ineffable tingles through her body. Tarok moved his right hand away from her back, which caused Lara to flopped back in the bed, and groped her right breast. Her body twitched and twisted as his thumb brushed her nipple in tandem with his tongue on the other breast. And when he pinched it lightly, Lara wailed.  
Tarok didn’t linger too long on her breast, he continued to lick his way down her body. His tongue cleaned her flat stomach and when he went past her belly button, he moved to lap at her inner thighs. He serviced one thigh while greedily rubbing the other. The room was full of sounds of Tarok’s heavy breathing and slurping, punctuated with Lara’s small cries. Lara had stopped trying to cover her mouth, instead, her hands dug down into the sheet to hold herself in place. Now each time Tarok licked her with his tongue, her body convulsed in such a wonderful tremble that she made a throaty moan of “aii” and “eee”.  
Lara felt so weak. Her breaths were short and urgent. Her inexperience body had never been touched like this nor had it enjoyed so much pleasure.  
Tarok lifted his head and beheld Lara. His thirsty eyes drunk in the most erotic sight he had ever seen: the writhing, out-of-breath body of the most beautiful girl he had ever met, her skin glistening with sweat, her pale skin glow under the moonlight. He made her like this, and she let him do it. Her intoxicating yet feminine scent had driven the male inside him wild with lust. His crotch was on fire. None of the women he had sex with had ever made his cock as hard as this girl, and she hadn’t even touched it yet. His shaft throbbed so much in his pants it was almost painful. Yet he didn’t pull his cock out. He didn’t want to scare Lara with it.  
His eyes dropped directly down and watched the clean-shaven triangle area between her legs. Tarok thought for a second and decided. He lowered his face to her crotch very slowly, making sure that she saw what he’s doing. His eyes fixed on hers. He paused when his nose was at the same level as her pussy. She was already wet, Tarok could smell it.  
Lara saw and understood what Tarok wanted. She had overheard lewd tales from many young married girls who were eager to exchange promiscuous story of their married life to each other when they gather for the spring festivals at the temple. Lara blushed then and tried not to think about it too much. She’d always thought it was such a weird act.  
And now Tarok was offering to do it to her.  
“If you feel uncomfortable, just say stop.” She remembered what Tarok had said to her earlier.  
He sniffed a couple of times at her opening. She could saw his alluring eyes. He slowly stuck out his tongue.  
Lara made up her mind. She laid her head down, she tried to stabilize her breath and stared at the ceiling. She said nothing.  
Tarok understood. He kissed her pubis, which drew a gasp from her. He then grabbed her hip and lifted it up slightly. Her scent of wet arousal was deafening. He closed his eyes momentarily to truly absorb this mind-boggling wonderful scent. Then he flung his eyelids opened and gave Lara a slow lick, with the tip of his tongue traveled from the bottom to the top of Lara’s netherlips.  
“Ah, ahhhh,” Lara moaned softly. Her delicate mewling sent blood pumping in his ear. He wanted to hear more of those delicious sounds. He gave another tentative lick, and another, and another.  
Tarok had wanted to be slow at first, but this new sensation was too good for Lara, so his carefulness turned into agony for her. Her hip started to gyrate on its own, and she unconsciously clenched her thighs around Tarok’s head, wanting for more. All of this served to encourage Tarok and he began to work his tongue in earnest. He gripped Lara’s hip more tightly and darted his flexible tongue up and down her engorged labia, every time his tongue brushed past her clitoris, the tip of his tongue lingered at the nub. Occasionally he would twist his tongue and push it inside Lara. She was practically crying now. Her hip jolted and convulsed in a rhythm set by Tarok’s tongue.  
Tarok couldn’t take it anymore. Her yips and moans were too much for him. His cock was going to explode if he neglected it any longer. Tarok pulled his pants to his knees with one hand while keeping his tongue on Lara, then he grabbed his cock and pleasured himself rapidly.  
Lara didn’t last long. The building orgasm inside her crested and burst open. She let out a soundless cry, her back arched and formed a near semi-circle, then it flopped back into the bed. Her mind flooded with the best post-orgasmic bliss of her life, and she floated away, as light as a spring morning cloud, leaving her consciousness behind.

Lara awoke some minutes later. She was still lying on the bed. And above her was its owner, hundreds of pounds of muscles huffing and heaving. His right hands planted beside her left shoulder to keep balance, while on the opposite side of her, his face was buried in her hair. She felt his muzzle nuzzling her ear or her neck, sniffing deeply, and when he breathed out, gushes of sultry hot air flew down her neck. She heard him panting hard as if he was trying to drown himself in the scent of her hair.  
She lifted her head slightly to look down at her body and saw why Tarok was heaving so hard. He was fully naked, his pants lying on the floor, and his left hand was furiously moving between his legs. Lara couldn’t see clearly, but she knew what’s he doing.  
Sensing the movement of Lara’s head, Tarok drew his head back. With bated breath, he observed her flushed post-coital face. His blue glazed eyes stared deep into her soul. His face contorted with dire and urgent need.  
Lara raised her arm and wrapped them around his head, lacing her hand in his mane. Lara tugged gently and pulled Tarok into her. Their lips touched.  
Every muscle in Tarok’s body seized up, and he almost fell onto Lara. His bulging biceps strained from supporting his own weight. His lung collapsed as the air was expelled from his chest, his throat made a low guttural sound. Lara felt his intense orgasm on her skin as strands of searing hot liquid splattered on her stomach. His orgasm lasted almost half a minute. His seed was copious enough that her midsection was coated in it.  
When he was finally spent, Tarok fell onto his back, lying by Lara’s side. For a while, there were only sounds of Tarok heaving for air. Lara noticed that he hadn’t breathed at all during his orgasm.  
After Tarok had recuperated somewhat, he sat up, grabbed the blanket and proceeded to gently wipe Lara clean of his come, then he threw it on the floor. The giant minotaur gathered her in his arms and lay down on his back, carefully laying Lara on top of him. He was so large that her body didn’t touch the bed.  
Tarok positioned Lara so that she lay on her stomach, her chest pressed against his, her head rested on his shoulder, her hands laid on his barrel-like chest. Lara glanced up at him, but he had already closed his eyes. She felt one of his hands slowly patted the small of her back and the other gently caressed her shoulder blade. Lara could vaguely hear his heartbeat gradually slowing down to normal. She closed her eyes too.  
Despite the cold night, Lara didn’t feel chilly at all. It was all a haze afterwards. She didn't remember when she fell asleep.


	7. Intimacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The relationship between our main characters continues.

Lara woke up when it was well into the morning. Light shone in through a window on the wall by the bed. The fireplace had gone cold sometime during the night, leaving the room to the chilly late autumn air. And yet Lara wasn’t cold. Tarok’s body had kept her warm, and his arms still draped over her. She couldn’t help but sighing satisfyingly when she opened her eyes.  
The steady soft snoring told Lara Tarok hadn’t woken up yet. She craned her neck to look at him and was reminded of how he looked two days before: calm and serene. His sleeping face had the tranquility of a well-rested man, but today there was something else, which, judging by his curled lips, seemed like contentment.  
Lara looked at his chest. She didn’t notice it last night due to darkness and other ‘distractions’, but the bandage was replaced. Someone had done a better job than her since the gauze was wrapped tighter and no blood had seeped through.  
Another thing Lara didn’t notice about Tarok until now was that his head was full of tangled black, coarse, thick hair that flowed down to the back of his neck, forming a sort of mane. The mane extended onto his back, where it morphed into the thin layer of black fur of his body. Protruding atop his head like two towers in the middle of a coal-colored forest was the pair of horns. Lara wondered what they would feel like if she touched them. She had touched a stag antler and really loved the velvety texture of it; Tarok’s horns, on the other hand, seemed smooth. If she extended her hand just a little, she could give them a feel. Lara tentatively raised her hand.  
 _But what if he woke up?_ She drew her hand back.  
 _It’s just a quick touch. It couldn’t do any harm, and it wouldn’t bother Tarok in any way._ She lifted her hand again, aiming for the midsection of his left horn. When her hand was an inch away from it, Lara suddenly had a funny feeling: the feeling of being watched. She instinctively looked down to find Tarok’s eyes following her outstretched fingers.  
“Eeeee,” Lara shrieked and jolted. She almost felt off Tarok, but his hands were quicker and they caught her.  
“I’m sorry, Ididntmeantowakeyou,” Lara jabbered. She froze as Tarok held her waist to stop her from falling.  
“What are you doing?” he asked after a yawn. He sat up while still holding Lara and relaxed his grip. He laid her on one of his thick muscular thighs.  
“Nothing,” mumbled Lara. She hid her face from his by looking at her lap.  
“Come on, tell me, I’m curious. What are you planning to do?” asked Tarok. He patted her back in a friendly manner to coax her answer.  
Lara slowly peered up and saw his toothy grin. She relaxed a bit.  
“I’m just curious about your horns.”  
“Curious? Did you try to touch them?”  
“Yes. It was dumb. Please forget about it.”  
But he didn’t. Instead, he tipped his head forward, presenting her his pair of ivory horns.  
“Touch it,” he said.  
“Um…”  
Lara didn’t expect him to agree to her silly curiosity this easily. She raised her hand gingerly and touched Tarok’s horns. They were indeed smooth, like polished wood. Her hand drifted downwards to his thick rough hair, and she stroked it lightly. She remembered how much he enjoyed her doing this last night. Soon enough, Tarok began to hum satisfyingly. Lara couldn’t help but giggled when she saw the broad happy smile on his face. She moved down to his neck and continued stroking.  
Tarok’s hands circled Lara’s hip, and he lifted her up so that her face was on his level. He pressed his lips to her and gave Lara a gentle morning kiss. It lasted a minute before Lara pulled away, her glassy chestnut eyes met his blueness. She spoke first, “How are you today? Does the wound hurt anymore?”  
“Just a dull pain now, nothing I can’t deal with,” said Tarok absentmindedly since his attention was entirely on her face. He had been with many other girls, some slaves, mostly paid whores, and he had never paid much attention to how they looked. Now he couldn’t get his eyes off this young girl. He liked how beautiful she looked, how soft her skin felt, and especially, how lovely she smelled.  
“Lara, can I ask you something?” Tarok asked.  
Lara raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”  
“Do you mind…” Tarok paused, his lips twitched. “…if I, um, hold you?”  
Lara thought that was a strange thing to ask, but it was even stranger to see how Tarok said it: he looked nervous when he asked. He’s not the same cold and imperious Tarok as before, and Lara decided that she liked this Tarok much more than the old one.  
She nodded and smiled reassuringly to set him at ease. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, as his body was too wide for her to fully encircle, and nestled her head on the left side of his neck. Tarok in turn wound his arms around her back and waist and pulled her close to him, her lithe little body fully enveloped in his warm embrace. With Lara’s head right beside him, Tarok couldn’t resist digging his nose into Lara’s hair and held it there, indulging himself in her heavenly scent. She did not object. The little nudges he sometimes gave her with his muzzle when he sniffed gave Lara delicious tingles. Being so close to Tarok, Lara could feel the steady thumping of his heartbeat against her own.  
Lara closed her eyes. The last time Lara was hugged was during her childhood, and Tarok was big enough to make her felt like a child in his embrace. She reminisced about her youth. Back when her mother still found it suitable to pamper her little daughter, she would hold Lara at night, singing lullabies or telling tales about pixies and dragons and princesses. Lara missed those days. She missed the stories, even the boring ones about the sages of yore.  
Lara opened her eyes. She wondered what was going on in Tarok’s mind. He had sat still the whole time. It had been a long hug, not that she’s complaining though, Lara had enjoyed his embrace very much.  
“Tarok, is everything alright?” Lara whispered, she didn’t need to speak up as his bovine ear was right above her face.  
Her question gave Tarok a barely noticeable start as if her question had pulled him from wherever he was at and back to the bedroom.  
“I’m fine. Can you give me a minute more?” said Tarok after a pause.  
“No no, that’s not what I meant,” said Lara quickly, “It’s just—you’re so quiet.”  
Another moment of silence. “I can talk. What do you want to hear?” whispered Tarok by Lara’s ear. She felt his hot breath flowing down her ear. Lara shivered.  
“If you want, I’d like to hear about your mother.”  
Tarok stayed silent and made no detectable movements. Lara became afraid she had intruded too much, she was about to apologize when Tarok moved backwards so that he could lean against the headboard. He hugged her tighter, her modest breast squished against his hard, masculine chest, and then he relaxed. His hands caressed her back, causing Lara to squirm joyfully. He began his story.  
“My mother was the daughter of farmers who lived very far from here, in the north. I didn’t know much about her parents, just that they were always poor. When mother was about to be married to a son of another farmer in the village, the non-humans attacked. Goblins, orcs, ogres, minotaurs and many others. Their territory had been gradually cut back to the mountainous region by the migrating humans for centuries now, and they had grown more and more restless. Finally, the most combative of them banded together and organized raids against human settlements. Their goal was not to steal but to drive the humans away. Mother’s village was one of the first targets.  
“Mother was captured. Her parents didn’t survive. The non-humans had no use for humans, they just wanted to scare them off their lands. Except for the minotaurs. They wanted female slaves. All females in a minotaur tribe live under the protection of the chieftain and are separated from the bulls. Breeding is not a right, it must be earned from battles, therefore only the strongest can produce offspring. It was a great honor for a male to be allowed to touch a female and breed, and the females know it too. They are an extremely proud kind, even more than the gods, one might say. They refuse to touch any males who haven’t proved themselves. There is no such thing called love in the minotaur race, they don’t pair up and start families like humans. The god Palpinos didn’t create them that way. There is only breeding. That’s why minotaurs are always fighting, against others or themselves. Doesn’t matter. They must fight. It’s in their blood.  
“Breeding isn’t easy, since the females aren’t available. Yet they still have the urge for it. The primal urge that even constant bloodshed can’t sate entirely. As a result, many inferior minotaurs used whores or captured slaves to pleasure themselves since they can’t have a suitable partner. Mother was captured and enslaved.”  
Tarok stopped to gather his breath. Lara hugged him tighter.  
“Minotaurs chieftains usually tried to prevent slave-raiding as it caused outrages among other races, but this specific chieftain didn’t care. He regulated how the slaves were given out too, long as he could get his hand on them any time he wanted. He saw mother and wanted her first, that same night she was struck by Melisza’s spell. Melisza and her mentor, Talina, was staying with the tribe. Talina promised to use alchemy to give the minotaurs’ weapons powerful enchantments in exchange for them letting her study some lightning-discharging stones in their territory. Talina had discovered a way for species to mix and create cross-breed children, yet she didn’t tell a soul about it. I don't know why. Somehow, Melisza learned about Talina’s secret spell, and that night the witch offered to put it on mother, lying that it was a 'calming' spell that would help to put her mind at ease for what would come later that night. And mother was desperate enough to agree.  
“Of course, the spell didn’t work that way. Mother still suffered at the hand of the chieftain. Months went by and nothing changed until she was visibly pregnant. The minotaurs couldn’t explain it. Difference species can’t mix and breed with each other, and there was no other male human for miles. When Talina heard about it, she immediately knew what had happened. She went to confront Melisza about it, but her student was quicker. Their tent exploded in a giant electric-storm with Talina in it. Mother saw Melisza flew out of the carnage and disappeared.  
“The tribesmen didn’t know what to do with mother. Besides Talina and Melisza, nobody else knows about the spell. They regarded her as some unholy curse delivered to them by some trickster god, and they didn’t dare to kill her as that would give some reasons for said god to punish them. So, she was banished from the tribe, forced to leave the mountain, alone and pregnant.  
“Lucky for mother, she was saved by a few dwarfs who had decided to stay out of the fighting, given some supplies, and guided out of the mountains. On her way, she approached an advancing human army, sent to crush the non-humans raiders. They thought she was a refugee, took her in and sent her back to the nearest walled city. She stayed there until I was born. Then she couldn’t stay anymore. Words of a terrifyingly deformed infant soon spread, and she had to run away with me. She ran into the woods, found an abandoned cottage and made it her new home.  
“I couldn’t fathom how mother managed to survive the first few years, but she did. Being a farmer’s daughter helped, I guess. She fed herself and me by working on the farm that she made, and occasionally she went to a nearby village to trade, pretending to be from another village.  
“I grew up in that place. Mother treated me well, like a true son. Life in the forest was slow and simple. I worked the earth, she sowed and grew plants. When I was big enough, I began hunting. I had to take care not to be seen by other humans, mother always reminded me. I didn’t even realize I was different from a human until she pointed out the growing horns. Occasionally, I saw some humans foraging in the forest, but I stayed out of sight.  
“I was happy on that farm, until my sixteenth winter. It was especially harsh, and mother started coughing. During a hounding stormy night, she had a very violent fit. She went to bed and didn’t stop coughing. I tried to hold her, try to make it stop. But it was useless. The coughing stopped the next morning, along with her breaths. She was barely forty, and her hair had already turned silver.”  
He paused. Lara realized that her eyes were wet.  
“I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. Mother was the only person I ever knew. After I'd buried her, I couldn’t stay in that cottage anymore. I had to leave. I am a mintotaur, and mother said my kind was not welcomed among humans. So, I did what made sense to me then: go back to the mountains and find my kind there. I didn’t know the name of the chieftain that sired me nor the name of his tribe, but that didn’t matter. I journeyed north. Eventually, I found one of the surviving tribes from the war. They were small and there weren’t many males. I asked to join them, yet they looked at me with suspicion. Minotaur is a very tribal race, they distrusted all outsiders, and I am without a tribe. Besides, I couldn’t understand the language they spoke. It was utterly hopeless. I had to leave before they turned on me.  
“The war lasted for many years until the blood toll was too much for both sides. The leaders of the nonhumans and the human king agreed to a peace treaty. Many nonhumans were scattered during the war and ended up living with humans after peace was restored. Took them enough killing to learn they could live with each other. And fight with each other too. Many mixed-race mercenary bands formed from the war, and I joined one of them. Switched from one band to the next until I ended up in the one I’m leading. You already know what happened next.”  
Tarok stopped. He ended the long hug, letting Lara dropped back on his thigh. While he spoke, his voice was calm and restrained, and when he had finished, his face was serene and strangely distant, as if his mind had traveled a thousand miles away and decades back, and only now had begun to return.  
“Do you miss her, Tarok?” asked Lara. She looked up at him, her chin on his sternum.  
“At first. But after a few years, not anymore. I haven’t thought about her for a very long time. But I remembered, very rarely, she came to me in dreams. In one dream, mother was working in the garden, she smiled and waved at me when I returned from a hunting trip, carrying an elk. And I would smile back, knowing she was glad to see her son returned safely. Then, it was gone,” Tarok said, his sprucecone-size thumb lazily caressed Lara nape, “In my earliest memories, when the years of hardship hadn’t caught up with her youth yet, she was beautiful,” he looked down at Lara, “like you.”  
Lara’s face was about to burst into flame when a loud bang from the door cut through the morning stillness like a knife through a curtain. Lara jumped at the sudden noise and Tarok reflexively pressed her to his chest possessively.  
“Tarok, are you in there?” came the voice of Erika. Both Lara and Tarok relaxed.  
“Yes, I’m on my bed. What do you need?” Tarok called out loud enough for his secretary to hear.  
“Me? Nothing much, except for a warmer fireplace and a new bed. But it’s about the men. It’s morning now, and they are wondering what will happen next. I know you need to rest, so just tell me what to say to them.”  
Tarok brows furrowed, he thought for a second, then said, “Tell them I need a week to return to full health, so no fighting in the meanwhile. They can rest for today and I will personally instruct them to rebuild the defensive perimeter of this fort tomorrow.”  
“Alright. I tell them that.” A moment of silence, then Erika spoke again, “And by the way, do you happen to know where Lara is?”  
“Yes. She’s in here,” announced Tarok. He felt the girl on his lap squirmed.  
Another moment of silence. “Well, tell her when she’s ready, I’d like to see her in my office.” Then Erika walked away.  
“Is something wrong, Lara?” Tarok asked when he looked at her. She had buried her face in his big muscular chest.  
“You…just tell Erika that?” came Lara’s muffled shrill squeak between his pecs.  
“Tell her what? You’re here with me? Of course, what else should I say to her,” asked Tarok with genuine surprise in his voice.  
He couldn’t understand why Lara was embarrassed, and Lara didn’t respond.  
 _He definitely didn’t get it._  
Lara disentangled from Tarok and stood up on the floor.  
“I…I should go. Erika’s waiting,” said Lara. The glowing redness on her face was still evident. In the clear morning light, he saw the strawberry color of her cheeks for the first time, and, to Tarok’s astonishment, his heart jumped in his rib cage and it sent blood pumping to where Lara would find “inappropriate”.  
“Yes, you should,” Tarok said, surreptitiously putting his hands on his crotch. Luckily, Lara was busy putting on her clothes and didn’t see.  
“Wait, Lara, one more thing,” exclaimed Tarok as Lara turned to the door. She turned around.  
“Can I see you tonight?”  
Lara said yes before she even thought about it.  
\---***---  
Lara didn’t go to Erika right away. She took a bath first, this time she purposefully wore the honeysuckle oil. Her mother had used it to cure light wounds and minor burns, and Lara had been using it in her bath simply because it was available. She continued to use it into adulthood as a habit, if someone had asked Lara “Why honeysuckle?”, she wouldn’t be able to answer affirmatively. Until now.  
Erika was alone in her study behind her desk when Lara entered. The old woman looked up from her notes and watched as Lara walked in.  
“Good morning,” greeted Lara as she sat down on her usual spot, facing the old woman.  
“Morning, Lara. And I believe you had a good one, too?”  
“Wha—what made you said that?” exclaimed Lara.  
“You look much better than the last time you came out of Tarok’s room. And giddier, I would say.”  
Lara stared at the table. She stayed silent and instead let her blushing do the talking.  
“I went to find you first thing in the morning,” said Erika, clearly amused with her correct guess. “You weren’t in the servant bedchamber, your bed wasn’t touched. So, I went to Tarok next. It’s a surprise to learn you were with him this morning.”  
“Why?”  
“Because he had never slept with any girl before.”  
“What? No. I saw a girl on his bed once, and I was with him two times before.”  
“And did you stay with him until morning? No. No one ever did. He calls his slave to bed, satisfies himself, then tells them to leave. Always. He sleeps alone in his bed. Until today.”  
Lara's mouth was agape. She couldn’t believe what she just heard.  
Erika leaned forward and observed Lara as she spoke to the young priestess. “Tell me, did anything happen between you and him in the forest. Anything you haven’t told me?”  
“I’m sorry. I thought it wasn’t important,” said Lara with guilt. Then she told Erika how she and Tarok spent that night in the woods together. When she was done, Erika's inquiring gaze on Lara seemed to intensify.  
“You’re not here long enough to know this, but Tarok genuinely cared for those under his protection. His men hold him in high regard. Some had been with Tarok ever since he’d taken over. And through years of working for him, I respect him too. He was fair in his dealings, and pay is usually on time, although his taking up the slavery business put a sour note in my opinion of him. He shouldn’t have listened to those southern merchants. Northerners don’t need slaves,” Erika said, and, realizing she was ranting, feigned coughing.  
“Anyway, I want to ask you a question, and be honest with me. What do you assume is Tarok’s opinion of you?”  
“Of me?” Lara asked, then she paused. Her forehead wrinkled as her mind wandered in recollection of her time with Tarok. What do Tarok think of her?  
“I believe I’ve gained his respect after the events in the forest,” said Lara, “I’ve certainly learned more about him in the past few days and have known him better as a person. I think he enjoys my company too.”  
“Interesting,” remarked Erika, “And that’s all you think there is?”  
Lara raised an eyebrow. “You mean, there’s something else?”  
Erika shook her head slowly. It was not a disapproving or “I don’t know” kind of head shake.  
“That’s up to you to find out. Anyway, there is some more work to be done and I’d be very glad if you can help me with it,” said Erika, then she handed over to Lara an old leather-bound ledger. Lara picked up the quill and started working.  
\---***---  
The next couple of days was the most enjoyable days that Lara could remember in her adult life. By day, she helped Erika with the bookkeeping. Being the secretary’s assistant wasn’t bad; one might say it was monotonous and boring, but for Lara, it wasn’t so different from the daily rituals she used to perform at the temple. And even though at the end of the day her hands were often tired, she enjoyed peace and quiet doing simple work with someone she cared about.  
When the night came, Lara had dinner with Erika, bathed and went to Tarok’s bedroom. Before Lara, he’d switch from one girl to the other each night. Now he asked Lara to come every night and only Lara. When in bed, she and Tarok would cuddle to sleep. Lara loved it when she lay on top of him, as he slowly caressed and petted her on the back. Tarok in turn would groan satisfyingly when she stroked his mane or rubbed his neck. Lara would fall asleep while his fingers run through her silky hair, her body melted in the warmth of his body.  
By spending so much time with Tarok, Lara discovered that he craved physical closeness. It’s hard to believe a big strong warrior like him loved hugging so much. When they woke up, he often asked to hold her, and Lara would gladly oblige. She just loved being embraced in his big strong body so much. And the kisses, oh the kisses, they just got better and better.  
They talked a lot while cuddling at night. He would sit on the bed with his back against the headboard, and she on his lap, head rested on his chest. He often asked Lara about her day, and she told him. She was sure that whatever bookkeeping she did by day was not at all interesting, but Tarok listened. Then the topic would go back to her life back at the village, about her childhood, her duties as a priestess, her mother, and so on. She was hesitant at first, having not used to open herself so much to another person, but Tarok’s rapt attention to her every word made Lara feel more comfortable about recounting her past. Tarok seemed truly want to know, or at least just wanted to hear her talk. Lara in turn asked Tarok about himself, and Lara learned a lot more about her master. Tarok never refused to answer her questions, much to Lara’s surprise.  
In the north, even though human and non-human had begun to mix, old hatred from before the war still lingered, and the bloodshed bred new ones. Minotaurs were especially hated in most places, due to their aggressiveness. Tarok was mistreated everywhere he went. Women screamed when they saw him approaching their village, children threw rocks at him whenever he turned their back to them. He knew by heart all the curses and bestial names that people cared to come up with to yell at him.  
The only place he could found peace is, ironically, among his fellow mercenaries. Here, the worst abuse he suffered was the derisive laughter when the men found out he had never drunk before, though he quickly put those who laughed to silence when he experimented and drunk an entire cask in one sitting without keeling over or even blabbered. There was of course name-calling, but those names could be applied to anyone. In a mercenary band, no one cared what race you were or how many horns you had, as long as you could fight. Tarok couldn’t at first, but the captain, Markus, saw potential in him and allowed Tarok to join. The men made fun of Tarok non-stop until he learned to counter and swing his axe back and almost severed his opponent’s arm during a practice spar. That earned him their respect. The cut and bruises he suffered during practices were bearable as they were only surface. What Tarok couldn’t stand were the insults. They cut deep as only words could. His gentle life with his mother didn’t prepare him for the brutal reality of a mercenary. As a result, he avoided human contacts apart from his brethren.  
Eventually, he learned to ignore the insults. But the damages were done. His heart hardened, feelings were pushed down, locked away in the recesses of his mind. He felt less sympathy and the killings became easier. After he had deposed Markus and taken over, Tarok fully embraced the designation of a minotaur. Of a beast. If that what people saw when they looked at him, why not gave them what they expected? The adoption of slavery followed after Tarok moved south when one of the merchants he escorted suggested him to do so for extra coins.  
Even though Tarok had accepted being a beast, deep down inside, he was unhappy. Tarok’s reevaluation of his identity was out of necessity, not by free will, to save himself from further pain. He grew up learning about his mother’s hardship. When she died, he dealt with loss for the first time. After that, he was thrown violently into a life full of destruction and bloodshed, a life he didn’t ask nor prepare for. Tarok endured it all, and he resented. Pain and suffering subconsciously condensed into hatred for the one who started all of this: Melisza. Ever since that one sleepless summer night when he made the connection between his suffering and Melisza, he had wanted the witch dead.  
\---***---  
Tarok never suggested sex to Lara. Indeed, for them it was just cuddling and talking. But Tarok couldn’t keep things completely chaste for long. One night, a week after their return to camp, as Lara had just stripped out of her clothes, Tarok immediately picked her up and pulled her to his chest. The kiss that followed was especially urgent. He sat on the bed while a breathless Lara knelt on his lap with her knees on his haunch, trying to keep up with his demanding lips.  
With one hand holding Lara’s back, Tarok carefully moved the other to his growing cock to stroke it. For the past couple of days, he had grown increasingly frustrated. Tarok, like any other healthy minotaur, had needs, one of which had not been fulfilled for seven days now, and the primal itch was getting to his head. He didn’t want to draw attention to his cock by blatantly stroking it, fearing that would cause Lara discomfort. The bruises on her neck were still visible, which served as a reminder of their terrible past.  
There were of course other ways for Tarok to scratch that itch. He thought of his other slaves. However, he couldn’t muster an iota of desire to spend time with any girl but Lara. He had tried to find a quiet spot and solved the problem alone, but, to Tarok’s surprise, without Lara’s presence, he wasn’t in the mood. His body had simply been too spoiled with Lara’s feminine scent, her soft body, and her beauty.  
Despite the immense pleasure from both the kiss and his stimulated cock, a pang of guilt hit Tarok. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this behind Lara’s back. He had opened himself to her so much and he didn’t want to hide anything from Lara.

Tarok stopped stroking his erected shaft. Pulling out of the passionate kiss, which had left both breathless, he took in the sight of the young girl in front of him. Lara had to lean on his shoulder for support after the long, breathtaking kiss. His cock throbbed when he saw how lovely she looked.  
“Lara,” he called to her. She looked up at him. “Do you mind, if I…stroke myself?”  
“Stroke…yourself?”  
“Look behind you.”  
Lara turned behind to look and saw his erection in his hand.  
“You don’t have to touch or even look at it.”  
“It’s alright. I understand,” Lara said, “I could leave you alone while you relieve yourself.”  
“NO. I mean, please stay. It’ll make things easier.”  
Lara said nothing, instead, she nodded. With that, Tarok guided Lara to sit on his left leg, his thigh between Lara’s legs, her head rested on his chest. He put his left hand on the small of her back. With Lara comfortably in his embrace, Tarok’s closed palm began to slowly move up and down on his cock, while his other hand gently caressed the girl. He loved the smoothness of Lara’s skin on his hand and the softness of her body in his embrace. The feeling of her body alone ensured his cock would stay hard as iron. Tarok watched Lara closed her eyes. He followed suit and let the tingling sensation of each stroke swept through his body from crotch to ears, in waves after waves of shuddering bliss. His mouth made several audible gasps as Tarok quickened his hand. His breaths grew shorter as he edged closer to the much-needed release.  
When he was a few strokes away from climax, he felt something strange on his left leg. He stopped stroking and opened his eyes to look. Through glazed eyes, Tarok saw Lara was pressing one cheek against his chest, her eyes squeezed shut, her hands clutched his chest tightly and her breaths were as fast as his.  
Tarok stopped masturbating because he felt a movement, a very minute but repeated one on his thigh. The one that Lara’s sitting on. It took him a second to realize Lara was grinding her crotch against him. Her face was getting redder, but her slightly open mouth told him it wasn’t from discomfort. With withheld breath, he suddenly smelled her _arousal. Wet arousal!_ He was sure of it, having tasted her sweet, sweet wetness before. The scent made his cock throbbed violently in his palm.  
Tarok had to breathe deeply several times to make sure he didn’t read the situation wrong. Although the movement was faint, it was definitely grinding. And did she clench her thighs around him, too? He rubbed her back several times and felt her body heating up.  
Was Lara turned on? Because of him?  
Her eyes were still closed, and she hadn’t notice Tarok had ceased stroking himself yet. He stopped rubbing her back, which woke Lara from her haze.  
“Did you…finished?” asked Lara bashfully. Tarok watched her misty eyes and flushed cheeks, the sight of which made Tarok’s heart skipped a beat, his cock lurched in his palm, and he almost came right then. He closed his eyes momentarily to compose himself.  
“No, I haven’t,” he said, staring at the fireplace. Tarok removed his hand from Lara’s backside and put it on her right thigh.  
“Lara, did you just rub yourself against me?” asked Tarok calmly, despite the wild thumping of his heart.  
Lara looked at him as if he had just accused her of killing the king.  
“I—I did?” she stuttered. “I’m…” Lara tried to speak but the only noise came out of her mouth was so high, it sounded like a squeak.  
Tarok looked down at Lara’s pussy. His fingers drifted to her inner thigh. “I sensed that you have an itch between your legs. Need my help?”  
He waited patiently until he saw Lara nodded very faintly. _Poor Lara, so embarrassed that she couldn’t talk._ He thought of ways to boost her confidence up.  
Lara watched with rapt attention as Tarok began moving his left hand up her thigh. Then his knuckles brushed her labia, which made her thighs clenched even harder. Tarok discovered that her bald opening was already soaked. This find encouraged Tarok. He cupped her crotch with his left hand, his middle and index fingers lined Lara’s wet netherlips and began sliding up and down outside her pussy.  
“Mmm, mmmmhh.” Lara bit her lips to stop her moans. Her breathing became quicker, each breath in sync with the movement of Tarok’s hand. She reached out and held his probing arm for balance.  
“Lara, look at me,” said Tarok. When she did, he had to focus on her glazed chestnut eyes. He put his free hand on her shoulder and gave her an encouraging squeeze.  
“Don’t be shy, Lara. We are alone, others won’t hear you, be as vocal as you need. Move your hip if you want. Your goddess may demand that you be a model lady for everyone to see daily. But here, at night, in this bedroom, this is your private time. There’s only me and you here. You’re safe here, with me,” said Tarok as calmly as he could.  
Lara’s face was unreadable for a few tense seconds, but then she smiled at Tarok and nodded. Gripping his arm tighter, she began sliding her hip against his finger, very slowly at first, but she gradually increased her speed. And when Tarok curved his palm and brushed Lara clitoris, her mouth opened wide and she moaned a deeply satisfying “ahhhhh”.  
Tarok grinned at Lara’s progress, but he wanted more from her. And he had just the idea how. He let his hand that was cupping Lara’s pussy go limp.  
It took Lara a few seconds to realize Tarok’s hand was lying flat in front of her, lifeless. She looked at him, expected him to do something else, but Tarok said nothing. Her face turned from joyful ecstasy to confusion. Yet she didn’t say anything. She looked at his limp hand again, then at his face. The look on her face made Tarok wanted to laugh.  
“What do you want, Lara? Tell me,” said Tarok to the visibly frustrated Lara.  
“I want…” Lara mumbled but she failed to say anything meaningful. Instead, she hung her head to hide her face from Tarok.  
“If you can’t say it, then can you show me?” suggested Tarok. Using his right hand, he guided Lara’s hands to his left one. “Come on. What do you want me to do with my hand? Show me.”  
This worked better for Lara. She inhaled sharply and began pressing Tarok’s left hand to her pussy. She extended his middle finger and push it into her. Lara moaned happily. Lara cupped her crotch with Tarok’s hand and rubbed her pussy against it, all the while pushing the middle finger in and out of her soaked slit. She did it very slowly at first but quickly increased her speed.  
It took some coordination, but after a few more guided finger thrusts, Tarok took over. He leaned closer and whispered, “Good job, Lara.” He swore her pussy contracted around his finger when he said that. Lara’s little moans grew in frequency as she picked up the pace and rode Tarok’s hand faster. Her upper body leaned against Tarok’s arm and her arms wrapped around his giant bicep to keep herself from collapsing. Erotic sounds of “ahh” and “uhmm” escaped her mouth and filled the room.  
Tarok's right hand had found his cock and began stroking again. He was in heaven. His head was filled with pleasure, yet his senses were fully alert. His bovine ears pricked up to pick up every single cute little moan and gasp from Lara, and his nose was overloaded with the intoxicating mixture of the sweats on Lara’s back, her arousing juice that coated his hand, and the ever-pleasing smell of honeysuckle from her hair, all of which combined to create a scent that is utterly feminine and sexy to Tarok. But the most memorable thing for Tarok was the sight of her lithe, petite body holding onto his arm while her hip gyrating up and down, desperate to climax, her thin mouth formed a little oval as she gasped for air, her puffy pink nipple stood erected as it rubbed again the fur on his bicep. And when Tarok saw how red and flustered her puffy cheeks was, it was over. Tarok threw his head back and roared wordlessly as his cock throbbed and spurted, shooting his copious seed into the air. His mind went blank for what was probably a minute in his most mind-rending, teeth-gritting orgasm ever.

After he came down from this all-time high, Tarok realized that Lara had collapsed onto his chest, gasping, her hip stopped moving. He could still feel the remnant of her orgasm as her pussy contracted for the last time around his finger.  
Tarok pulled his soaked finger out of Lara’s pussy, which triggered a shudder from her. Then Tarok and Lara quietly settled into their favorite sleeping position: Lara laid on top of him, head nestled on his chest, eye closed. The orgasm was so strong, it put her to sleep. Tarok laid a hand on her back and give it a gentle rub, which produced what sounded like an appreciative murmur from her.  
Tarok sighed delightedly and closed his eyes. Sleep came to him as natural as the smile on his face.  
“…so after the victory at Lazir, I won my battleaxe, that one over there. It’s the only one that really fits me, taken straight from the orc lord’s hand. I was only twenty-one then, I’m sure of it. I had forgotten many things over the years, but I’ve always remembered when I got the axe. I was born when Wildan became king and got it the year he died. Twenty-one years. All the years I have wielded it, the axe has never failed me. Had I carried it with me to Melisza’s lair, she would no doubt had a much harder time bringing me down,” said Tarok.  
It was morning, but he hadn't get up yet.  
“But didn’t she said she used magic to defeat you?” Lara lifted her head to ask. She was still lolling on top of him. They were having a morning chat, and the topic this morning was about his prized steel axe, which stood at its familiar spot: leaning against the wall, by the bed.  
“Well, that’s true,” admitted Tarok. He patted Lara on her back, which made her giggle. “But I destroyed much of her minions with only a normal axe, before she appeared and hexed me.”  
While she listened, Lara dropped her head and nuzzled her face against Tarok’s pectoral muscle. She was in an unusually good mood this morning. After last night's orgasm, she woke up feeling satisfied and refreshed. And Tarok kept brushing his hand all over her naked back while he talked, which made Lara feel even better.  
“Wait. Did you say Wildan? Wildan the Weak?” asked Lara suddenly.  
“Yes, that’s him. Why?”  
“He was the grandfather of the last king, and Wildan’s been dead for so many years. I think it’s about…” Lara gasped and raised her head. “Wait, that’s mean you’re—”  
Lara couldn’t finish the sentence. Tarok craned his neck and planted a deep, long kiss on Lara’s mouth. Lara’s lips stiffened from the sudden kiss but immediately melted to his touch. She responded to his kiss enthusiastically by pushing her lips into his, holding on to his chest for balance.  
When Tarok ended the kiss, Lara smiled mischievously.  
“—at least 40 years old,” said Lara.  
Tarok huffed and dropped his head back into the pillow. Lara resumed burying her face in Tarok’s warm chest. “Did I guess correctly, old man?” Lara said, giggling.  
He didn’t reply. Then she realized he had stopped stroking her back too. Only then did it occurred to her that her offhand remark was not well-received.  
“Tarok, I’m sorry. I—”  
Tarok remained silent. His expression was definitely not happy, but Lara couldn’t be sure if he’s angry or not.  
“Tarok, please forgive me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she pleaded again. This time she swung her arms around his neck and held him tight.  
Tarok was not prepared for the wonderful feeling Lara’s soft body pressing so tight again him. He groaned and lifted a hand to brush Lara on the shoulder. The gentle gesture relaxed Lara a little, but she still held on.  
“Are you mad at me?” asked Lara tentatively. She lifted her distressing face and looked at Tarok remorsefully.  
“No, I’m not mad,” said Tarok calmly.  
“Please forgive me. It was just a joke, I didn’t think when I said it. I didn’t mean to hurt your feeling,” begged Lara.  
“What? My feelings?” exclaimed Tarok. “You’re afraid you hurt my feelings? People have said worse things to me than ‘old’, Lara. I thought you apologize because you’re afraid that I will punish you.”  
Lara’s face darkened at the mention of punishment. “Will…you?”  
“What? No! And I’m not mad, Lara. Let go of my neck. I’m not going to hurt you.”  
With that assurance, Lara slowly untangled her arms from Tarok’s neck. As soon as her hands left his body, she spotted a devilish grin on his face.  
Suddenly the world turned upside down for Lara as Tarok grabbed her and in one quick roll, had her on her back and him on top. It happened so quickly Lara didn’t realize what’d happened until she was pinned beneath Tarok, each of her arms held down by his big powerful hand. His face was so close to her she could hear his breath. And that impish grin was still on his face. Lara didn’t dare move nor breathe.  
Then Tarok lowered his head. Lara shut her eyes. She felt his wet tongue on her neck, running from clavicle to chin, leaving a trail of coolness behind. After a single slow lick, Tarok released Lara and rolled back on his back beside her.  
Tarok smiled to himself, amused with his little jest. He turned his head sideways to see what Lara's reaction was and saw Lara turning her back to him, legs slightly curved towards her stomach, her body quivering.  
“Lara?” Tarok immediately lifted his head.  
She didn’t respond, instead, he heard a sniffling sound.  
 _Is she crying?_  
Tarok sat up and moved next to Lara. He carefully put a hand on Lara's shoulder. “Lara?” Tarok whispered. He gave her shoulder a gentle shake.  
It took her a minute more to stop sobbing. Eventually, she got up. When she turned towards him, Tarok saw her face was wet with tears. He raised his hand to wipe the trails of tears from Lara’s face, and she let him.  
“I’m sorry, Lara. I was fooling around. It didn’t mean to upset you,” said Tarok.  
Lara nodded. She hung her head, her chest still heaving with emotions. “I know it was a joke. You did scare me, but that not why I cry.” Lara sniffled.  
“Why did you?”  
Lara wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “When you pinned me down, for a long, painful second, I was reminded about the past, about how I often felt back at my village. I felt helpless, Tarok. So helpless. Because of the war, the whole country turned into a mess. People were fighting and slaughtering, there wasn’t enough food for everyone. Nothing is certain anymore. I watched men and women from elsewhere passed by my village, trying to escape the war. Being the priestess of Verea, people looked to me for comfort, for relief. Yet, there was naught that I could do to help them. I’m young and as powerless as everyone else. And then I was captured by your men. I lost my freedom, and never in my life had I felt so crushed. Even my life was not in my control anymore.” Lara choked, she couldn’t continue.  
Tarok extended his hand to Lara’s. She held him tight.  
“I just want the uncertainty to stop.”  
Suddenly, she got on her knees and grabbed Tarok left arm, her face pressed against his shoulder. Tarok could feel her entire body quaking with each sob.  
“Tarok, you’re my master. You’re the only certain thing in my life right now. I beg you, please don’t treat me like a plaything. Please, promise me you won’t grow bored of me and throw me away. I swear I will be good, I’ll be a loyal slave to you. Please, please promise me.”  
She cried again. She held on to Tarok arm as though if she let go of him for even a second, he’d be gone. Lara heard nothing from Tarok, but she could feel his hand behind her, moving up and down her back. Eventually, her hysterical crying subsided, thanks to Tarok’s comforting touch. She removed her teary face from his shoulder and looked up to those blue eyes.  
“Tarok?”  
“Lara, I can’t make that promise to you,” Tarok uttered, “because you’re not my slave anymore. You are nobody’s slave.”  
The gravity of his words sank slowly into Lara’s senses. “You mean…that I am—”  
“Yes, you are free,” confirmed Tarok. Lara made a sound like she was choking, but before Tarok could voice his concern, her arms had already wrapped around his neck as she practically jumped at him.  
“Thank you, thank you,” came Lara’s shrill muffled voice from underneath Tarok’s ear. He couldn’t help but wound his hands around the overjoyed girl too. Like all other time he hugged her, his body practically envelop her petite frame.  
Eventually, she let him go, she was teary again, but this time it was tears of joy. She couldn’t stop smiling at Tarok, her benefactor. But her smile flagged when she saw the somberness on his face.  
“Lara, there is something I need to tell you,” he shifted uncomfortably. “Back in the forest, the morning when we returned to my camp, do you remember? I told you, ‘Follow me if you want’. I wasn’t joking then. At that point, I didn’t consider you as my slave anymore. I said it and didn’t look back. You could have picked another path, follow the river to the city like I told you. I wouldn’t have chased after you if you do. But you followed me,” he paused, his hand found her and hold it tight.  
“I know what you are thinking. You couldn’t have possibly known about this, that you are a free woman at that point. I should have told you,” Tarok sighed. “I’m sorry, Lara. Not just about that, but for how I treated you, how I abused you, how I hurt you. If it is at all possible, I plead your forgiveness.”  
He stopped talking. Lara watched as his face contorted into a painful grimace as if the memory of the bruises he caused her brought anguish to his very soul. She realized his eyes had become fixed on her neck, where proof of his earlier abuses was still faintly visible.  
She squeezed his hand to get his attention. His blue eyes left her neck and turned to her chestnut ones. “I forgive you. The past belongs to the past. But there is one thing I want to know. Why didn’t you tell me that I’m free?”  
Tarok bit his lips. He swallowed hard. Lara braced herself for the importance of what he’s about to say.  
“If you want to leave right now, I understand. I’ll give you whatever you need and send my most trusted men to keep you safe on the road to the nearest city. About your question. When I turned around and saw that you were following me, I was glad, so glad. I didn’t tell you then, because I was selfish, Lara. I want you to come back with me. I want you to stay with me. These past few days, every night with you in my bed, I’ve never been happier. I want to spend the night with you by my side, and I want to see you wake up every morning. I want to take care of you, to keep you safe. If you leave, I can’t ever be sure of that. I can’t live if I know I leave you alone out there in the world. Please stay with me, Lara. Seeing you every day brings me immense joy, a joy that I haven’t felt since my mother died. I adore your kindness, your smile, your scent, your everything. I…I—” Tarok panted.  
“You love me,” uttered Lara. She said in three words what he’s been trying to confess the whole time. Tarok swallowed and nodded.  
Lara’s mouth opened, then her lips closed into a thin line. Somewhere deep inside her, she had some vague idea about the truth of their relationship, but the fact is that, at that moment, Tarok’s declaration of love took Lara by surprise. How ironic, that the priestess of the goddess of Love was blind to the love that’s right in front of her.  
“Lara?” whispered Tarok. Lara had been silent. Seconds seemed to stretch into eons, the deafening silence went on as hope faded away from his face. He slowly looked away from Lara, his throat was as dry as sand.  
“I… see,” Tarok choked. He closed his eyes as he turned his head away. He didn’t want to look or to hear anymore. Everything suddenly seemed woefully unnecessary. Even the fact that he’s breathing seemed redundant now.  
“I want to stay with you.”  
Those words immediately dragged Tarok back to life. His head turned to her as she spoke, and he saw the droplets of tears rolled down her beautiful cheeks.  
“These past few days with you have been the best days of my life. Yet, I’m a priestess of Verea. And you condone slavery. I can’t, with good conscience, willingly be with you. If I stay, I can’t look at the other slaves and pretend like I’m fine with it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” said Lara. She wept bitterly as she clutched Tarok hand.  
Out of duty, she had denied Tarok. And it hurt so much.  
Tarok put his arm around Lara’s back and pull her to his chest. He leaned down and planted a kiss on top of her head while his hand giving Lara’s shaking body slow comforting pats.  
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Lara said repeatedly as she cried in his embrace.  
“It’s alright, Lara. Don’t cry,” he whispered to her, “If it’s about slavery, then I will renounce it. All my slaves will be free, like you.”  
Lara looked up at Tarok in utter shock. “You…you would do that? Because of me?” muttered Lara. Her lips trembled when she asked.  
Tarok nodded. “It had never occurred to me how my slaves feel until I met you. I saw how you’re hurt by me and how you cried because of me. For the first time, I felt this nagging, terrible guilt, Lara. I don’t want to feel that way anymore,” he shook his head and pressed her hand to his chest. He looked deep into her eyes, “I want to be better, for you.”  
Lara sat up straight. She had stopped crying. She reached up for his face, her fingers touched his jagged jawline.  
“Is this you, Tarok? Is this who you truly are, and not that harsh, brutal minotaur when I first met you?”  
“This is who I am, and was, a long time ago. I’m not that dumb beast who mistreated you anymore.”  
She shook her head. “No, you are not a beast. You are a man. A real human being, with a heart capable of love. Yes, I will stay with you,” Lara said, and a huge smile boomed on Tarok’s face.  
“I am 41, by the way. I understand if this makes you uncomfortable, but—” Tarok said, but he shut up when Lara shook her head.  
“I don’t care, Tarok. It was nothing more than a jest,” she caressed his jaw and giggled when she saw how relieved he looked. “I love you too,” declared Lara. She leaned forward and kissed him.  
Tarok eagerly returned the kiss. To his lover.


	8. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara fulfills her duty.

_“You want me to tell Erika? About us? Now?”  
“Now or next week, whenever you want. She’s bound to find out sooner or later. We don’t need to hide things from Erika. I trust that woman with my life, Lara.”_

That conversation kept playing again and again in Lara’s head, she didn’t realize she was already in front of Erika’s office. She knocked and walked in after hearing “Come in”.  
“Something’s been keeping you?” asked Erika as Lara settled in her chair.  
“In fact, yes. Well…” Lara fidgeted in her seat. She deliberated briefly the best way to break the news, then decided to simply be direct and succinct. “It’s about me and Tarok…”  
When she had recounted everything that’d happened this morning, Lara saw Erika was visibly intrigued. The old secretary didn’t drop her jaw in shock but modestly intrigued.  
“You knew, didn’t you? That he had feelings for me? I remembered you asked me what I think Tarok's opinion of me was? You said I need to figure it out by myself,” said Lara, feeling dumber and dumber as she spoke. Now it seemed so obvious.  
Erika nodded. “I had my suspicion. That night when he pulled you onto his lap—right on my bed behind you—you didn’t look scared like a girl being manhandled by her brute master. Instead, you looked embarrassed. Then, there’s the fondling,” Erika smirked as she reminisced while Lara grew redder, “Tarok isn’t the type to care about subtleties. But he keeps appearances around me, cause I’m the only woman around him. And yet, I had never seen him _doting_ so conspicuously on a girl like that before.” The look that she gave Lara when she said “doting” make Lara wished she could somehow sink lower in the chair.  
“It was hard to believe that a minotaur could love. But Tarok is not a typical minotaur, isn’t he? He has a human side.”  
Lara wholeheartedly agreed. This was not supposed to happen. Minotaur did not love. And yet, Tarok was the living contradiction. Lara remembered fondly the way he touched her when she was in his arms, how passion flow through them when their lips touched, how pure the adoration shown in his eyes was when he looked at her. Her innocence prevented Lara from seeing the true meaning behind those acts before, but now that she had seen, how could she call those things anything else but manifestations of love. And the love she felt from him is entirely human.  
“Lara?”  
Lara jolted in her seat. “Yes, I’m here,” she smoothed her dress and sat upright. “Sorry, I’m still trying to absorb everything. All of this just happened an hour ago.”  
Erika looked at her, then out of the window. When her eyes returned to Lara, she saw the old women’s gaze grew more serious. “Lara, are you sure you want to stay with him? He set you free, and it’s a big world out there. You’re young, you’re beautiful. You still have a life ahead of you. If you try, I’m sure you can find a more fitting match, one with social standing or wealth. Tarok is just a soldier.”  
“You’re right. Being a Verea’s faithful, I will have many chances to choose my partner. But of the twenty years that I’ve been alive, the days with him are when I feel happy the most. One of my duties is to find a love that is true, and I believe with all my heart that Tarok’s the one for me. I want to be with him. I love him, Erika.”  
If Erika had any more doubts about Lara’s intention, the determination in the young girl’s voice put them to rest. Erika reached forwards and held Lara’s hand.  
“Then I’m happy for you. I don’t mean to be dismissive of Tarok. I said what I said because I care about you. If you decide to stay, I’m happy too. I’m glad to have another woman around here. Gods, I’ve been among men for too long,” sighed Erika as Lara beamed at her.  
\---***---  
That day, all the slaves were freed and led by a group of soldiers to the nearest city to be released. There was confusion among the soldiers about this sudden change, but Tarok made his intention clear to all through a speech. In it, he announced from here on, there would be no more raiding and enslavement, and Tarok’s band of mercenary would earn money through honest soldier work. There were some grumbles and murmurs among them, but overall, no one voiced any objection.  
The muted reaction surprised Lara. Erika explained that slavery was not the way of life for these northern men. Tarok had only begun to own slaves a year ago after he went south, so these men were not accustomed to the practice yet. Therefore, after the speech, the men just shrugged, and life returned to the way it’s always been.  
Tarok and Lara spent the day separately. He continued with the fortification in preparation for winter while she served as Erika’s right hand. As Lara and Erika were the only two women in the camp, they had dinner separately from the men. But as soon as supper was done, Tarok immediately went to pick Lara up from Erika’s office, and the couple headed to the bedroom. The first time that happened, he surprised both women when he showed up at the door after dusk and said he was waiting for Lara. As Lara bid the old woman goodnight, she couldn’t help but flush when she noticed Erika’s amused glances at the smitten minotaur, who was too busy eyeing his lover to notice.  
Lara of course voiced her protest later in bed. She didn’t want Tarok to busy himself with such a trivial errand, and she could come by herself to the bedroom. But when Tarok murmured that he “want to see you as soon as I can”, the indignation she felt for him disappeared and Lara melted by his side. She edged closer to Tarok and rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. That drew a satisfied sigh from him.  
As perfect as her time with Tarok was, Lara had been thinking about one aspect of their relationship lately, one which would no doubt come up in the future.  
The topic of lovemaking had been absent in their relationship. And both knew why.  
Lara wondered if Tarok had been thinking about it like she did. He had to be. Tarok had such a strong desire for his mate, and being with him had helped Lara found her too.  
However, Lara was still bound by her vow with Verea. There’s only one possibility that she could keep her vow and move forward in her relationship with Tarok. The fact was, in these times of uncertainty, Lara was ready to settle, no matter how unconventional a match Tarok was.  
\---***---  
_One week later._

“Your wound has healed almost entirely,” gasped Lara.  
“I told you. Minotaur heals quickly.”  
Lara was holding the old bandage as she examined Tarok’s wound, or what’s left of it. It was hard to believe that a wound from a deep-plunging knife would heal in a fortnight. The gaping gash had closed and left behind a formidable scar. Lara put the old bandage aside and wrapped the new one around Tarok’s torso. Usually, one of Tarok’s medic would treat his wound, but because it was not so serious anymore, he preferred Lara to do it. “Remind me of our night in the forest” was his explanation to Lara. She gladly agreed.  
As soon as she had finished tying the knot of the bandage, Lara found his arms snaked slowly around her waist. She giggled when he playfully pinched her skin.  
“Does my patient need anything else?” said Lara.  
“Well, my neck’s quite stiff.” Tarok flashed a toothy grin.  
Lara smiled knowingly. She knelt in front of him and massaged Tarok’s thick corded neck. Having spent so much time with him, she’d learned what made him happy. Apparently, his neck was one of the more sensitive parts of his body, and he _loved_ having her little dainty hands touching it.  
Lara hugged his neck for leverage and give him a peck on the throat. She heard a gasp from him. However, it was Lara's turn to be surprised when he lifted her up and dug his muzzle into her hair, and sniffed deeply. For a second, Lara scrambled to hold on to Tarok and her hands flailed on the nape of Tarok’s neck. Suddenly, his body tensed up, and he exclaimed, seemingly out of pain, and let go of Lara.  
“What’s wrong Tarok?” asked Lara after seeing the contortion of pain on his face. He rubbed the area under the back of his neck that Lara had hold on to.  
“I’m fine. You just found my sweet spot.”  
“Your sweet spot? What’s that?”  
“It’s the tiny area under the back of my neck that if you touch it, my whole body freezes, and I’m unable to move. Calm down Lara, it didn’t hurt much, it's only painful when you pressed it hard. You merely brush it.”  
Lara stared at Tarok blankly. “I have never heard of anyone having a sweet spot before.”  
“Me neither, but that because I didn’t go around asking. It was something I was born with. My mother found out about it when she was scratching my head one day,” Tarok chuckled as he reminisced, “it was when I was small enough to lie on her lap and get head scratches. It was the most effective way mother knew to make me stop running around the house so much.”  
“You like getting head rub, do you?”  
“Who doesn’t?” answered Tarok, and as if to prove his point, he cupped his giant hand behind Lara’s head and ruffled her hair. Lara giggled and pushed his hand away.  
“Keep this a secret, will you?” asked Tarok.  
“I will.”  
It was hard to believe, that a big strong warrior like Tarok could be subdued simply by pressing a point on the back of his neck. Then, a mischievous smile appeared on her face, and she chirped, “Does this mean even a girl like me can defeat you in a wrestling match?”  
Tarok didn’t share Lara’s humor, however. His face hardened into a serious frown.  
“Lara. This is a matter of life and death to me. You are the only one in this world who knows about my sweet spot. If anybody else does, especially my enemy, I could be in grave danger. Do you understand?”  
Lara’s smile withered. She nodded quickly. “Yes, of course. I promised to never tell another soul.”  
Tarok’s face relaxed after Lara’s assurance. “Thank you. Besides, if we were standing up, I doubt you could reach my neck anyway,” he said and grinned.  
With that joke, the tension in the room dissipated. Lara laughed.  
“You have never told this to anyone, not even Erika?”  
Tarok shook his head.  
“And you trusted me with this important secret? We have only known each other for two weeks, and you’ve known her for years.”  
His deep blue eyes looked at her tenderly as he spoke. “I love you, Lara. I just know that I can trust you,” said Tarok. Lara’s eyes suddenly welled up from his words. She blinked the tear away.  
If there had been any lingering doubt or hesitation, they were no longer. The fact that Tarok had trusted her so much had moved Lara to ask the question that she’d been pondering.  
Lara looked up at him, into those blue eyes that filled only with love. Love for her.  
“Tarok, I know this is sudden, but,” Lara forced herself to look straight at him in the eyes, “do you want to…um, make love to me?”  
Judging by his wide-eyed stare, Tarok didn’t expect that question at all. His forehead wrinkled as his mind devised an answer. His face became somber.  
“I would love nothing more if I could. But you have a vow with Verea, and I understand. I’m happy with how things are. Seeing you happy is enough for me.” He pulled Lara closer. “From that moment in the forest when you pleaded with me to stay alive, I had lived for you. And I still do. I can live without sex, but I can’t live without you.”  
Tarok’s confession breached the deepest part of Lara’s heart, and from it, emotions that’d been contained inside her the entire night burst open along with her tears. Lara held on to Tarok’s chest as she wept. Tarok just did what he did best in a case like this, which was providing a comforting embrace.  
Eventually, Lara calmed down. She pulled away from his arms and knelt in front of him. She held his hand and said between sniffles. “Tarok, as a faithful of the goddess of love, my lifelong duty is to find a partner that I truly love, so that my love with him symbolizes the power Verea on this world. I can’t imagine that I will ever meet anyone who loves me more than you. Tarok, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want, in the future, to be your wife, and you my man.”  
Tarok’s jaw dropped at her suggestion. “You want to marry me?” asked Tarok with bated breath.  
Lara nodded. “I know you have no faith in Verea, and marriage is a strange thing to minotaur, but it’d mean a lot to me if we are joined under her blessing.”  
“Is that even possible? Verea is a goddess of man, and I’m not even human.”  
“Don’t say that,” protested Lara, “You’re human to me. Verea teaches me to believe in the power of love, and we do love each other. That’s all that’s matters.”  
Even though his eyes didn’t leave hers, Lara could tell that behind them, his mind was thinking about this very hard.  
“You said that you want children. I can’t give you that,” he muttered.  
Lara nodded. “Tarok, I am the luckiest girl in the world. When I was enslaved, I thought my life was over. But instead, I met you and was blessed with the love of my life. I can’t ask my goddess for more. If I can’t have children, then it’s fine. I accept what was given to me.”  
She said with the tone of certainty that made Tarok smiled. She had put a lot of thought into this matter.  
“And, of course, when I do become your wife, we can be…more intimate,” said Lara bashfully. The subject of sex made her face blushed with pink. Tarok laughed. He pulled her in for a tight hug. Lara, his _wife._ He liked the sound of that.  
“If this is truly what you want, then I see no reason to say no,” Tarok said.  
Lara breathed out in immense relief, and the bright smile returned to her pretty face. She had worried that Tarok would view marriage as a pointless thing, especially in a hard time like this. If he had said no, it wouldn’t be a big problem for Lara, she wanted to be with Tarok no matter what.  
Lara explained to him that to be married, they needed to be at Verea’s temple in Merinth to perform a small ceremony, and it would not take long.  
“After that, we’ll be husband and wife,” Lara concluded.  
“In Merinth huh? Then we should set off early tomorrow, we will be there just before noon,” said Tarok eagerly.  
“To–tomorrow?” exclaimed Lara. “That too soon. I was thinking of like, in a few months.”  
“Lara, winter’s about to come. If you want to get to Merinth, we need to go before the snowfall. There will be no fighting in the winter, so we can have all the time for ourselves. And I want to spend as much time as possible with my _wife_.”  
The way he emphasized the word “wife” made Lara’s stomach fluttered. She suddenly had a vision about spending all winter with Tarok, cuddling at night under the cold weather, doing what a married couple does. She flushed with excitement.  
“Then...I guess tomorrow is fine,” Lara said.  
\---***---  
Lara could barely sleep, and she woke up early the next day. As soon as the first light of day peered through the window, Lara disentangled herself from Tarok carefully. She got off the bed, dressed herself, and tiptoed out of the bedroom. Before going to Merinth, there’s something she needed to do.

  
“Coming. You couldn’t wait until the sun rises to bother me?” Erika complained as she opened the door. “Oh, Lara? Sorry, I snapped at you. Too early,” she yawned. “What do you need?”  
“Can I come in? There’s something I want to ask you.”  
“Uh, sure.” Erika stepped aside, letting the young girl in. After they had seated, Lara told the old woman about her intention to wed with Tarok.  
“This is a big decision for me, and I hope that you will approve of this,” Lara finished. She looked at Erika expectantly.  
“But both of you have already decided. My opinion isn’t going to change anything.”  
“You are important, Erika. You are his trusted advisor, and I consider you as a friend, my only friend. Your acceptance would mean a lot to both of us.”  
Erika smiled. “I appreciate that. From what you’ve told me, I see you have thought hard about this decision. If you think he is right for you, then go ahead, be married. I’ll take care of the festivity.”  
“Festivity? You mean this will be a public thing? I’d rather keep this between you, me, and Tarok,” Lara said quickly.  
“Of course you have to be public about this. If the men found out that their chief gets married without telling them, or worst, telling them but without the proper festivity, there will be mutiny. Well, not really. I exaggerated. The point is, Tarok had been with his men for years, he would never hide from them. That would be bad for morale. Look, I understand that you want a private ceremony. Do that in Merinth, then we will have a feast here in a couple of days after Tarok had introduced you as his wife. Trust me, this is the best way to do this. You get the wedding that you want, and Tarok and his men get what they need: a happy occasion after the past gloomy days.”  
Lara couldn’t think of any better way, so she just nodded.  
“Oh, I just remember. I have something perfect for a wedding.” Erika stood up and went to her trunk. The old woman searched through her things before pulling something out. She walked to her seat and handed it to Lara. It was a circlet, large enough to fit a woman’s head. The thing was made of two bronze bands twisted around each other. It was old, judging by the faded color, but the metal felt strong and sturdy.  
“It’s a bridal crown. In the north, it is tradition for a village to have one of these. The elders in the village keep the crown and when a girl marries, they lend it to the bride. It looks bare because the bride is expected to decorate the crown with her own jewelry. I’d wedded wearing it too. When it was my mother's turn to keep it, the war with the non-humans broke out. My family had to run away, and it had been in our possession since. When my mother died, I inherited it. It was the only thing left of my old life,” Erika paused for a moment. She stared at the circlet and sighed. “Anyway, I want you to have it. No, no, don’t be shy, keep it,” she waved her hand dismissively at Lara, who was about to protest, “I’m not going to remarry. It’s more useful in your hand. Consider it my wedding gift.”  
Lara looked at the crown. It was a beautifully crafted piece of jewelry and was probably the most expensive thing she had ever had.  
“I don’t have anything to decorate it,” said Lara.  
Erika observed Lara as she spun the crown slowly in her hands. The old woman remembered when she first saw Lara, the girl had nothing on her except the clothes on her body and a few trinkets in her satchel.  
“It is tradition, but not necessary,” said Erika. She looked out of the window. “Jewels can have many shapes and colors, but they aren’t as beautiful as nature. It’s not yet winter. I’m sure you’ll find something.”  
Lara thought for a moment about Erika’s words. Then she got up, bid the old secretary farewell, and after a grateful hug, quickly return to her sleeping lover.  
\---***---  
It was almost midday when Lara and Tarok reached Merinth. They rode in the deserted town on a horse-drawn cart. Lara had the white priestess dress on, while Tarok wore tunic and pants. The temple of Verea sat on the outskirt of the village, on the other side of the town; therefore, they must pass through the entire village before reaching it. As she looked around, a keen sense of sadness overtook Lara. Her hometown, the place she had lived since she was laid at the temple’s door twenty years ago, was now abandoned. The streets were empty and filled with litters, there were houses with upturned furniture and broken windows. Lara didn’t realize she was shaking until Tarok put his hand behind her back and pulled her closer to him.  
“I’m sorry, for causing all of this,” he whispered.  
“I’m fine, Tarok. If your men hadn’t come, then someone else would. It’s dangerous out here.”  
As they approached the temple, Lara could see that someone had broken into it violently. She walked over the fallen front door, which still had the broken padlock hanging to it.  
Lara held back a cry. The temple looked the same as when she left. It’s not hard to understand why, since, except for the inlaid limestone statue of Verea at the apse, there was nothing of value inside. The statue was left untouched, fortunately. Behind her, Tarok crouched as he walked through the doorway and joined Lara by her side.  
Lara opened a door on the left side of the temple. “This is the living quarter for the priestess. It’s where I lived,” said Lara as she showed Tarok a simple room with a single wooden bed with scant furniture. Lara gathered what little wearable clothing that had been left behind and exited the room.  
Finally, the moment that Lara had been waiting for the entire morning—her wedding. She held Tarok's right hand with her left, fingers lacing, and guided him to stand in front of the statue. Lara knelt, but it took a bit of convincing for Tarok to do the same. Lara later learned that northerners have a thing called “warrior pride”, which meant they were quite sensitive about kneeling. He only did it when she pleaded with him to “do it for me”. She put on the bridal crown, which Lara had decorated with vines and flowers she found along the way. Tarok had entreated Lara to wear it since they started, but she put off until now. The mesmerized look on Tarok’s face when he saw his lovely wife-to-be with the circlet made Lara flushed.  
They hold hands while Lara recited marital prayers and blessings. She had trouble saying everything correctly, not because she forgot the words, but because Tarok couldn’t keep his eyes off her the whole time, and that made Lara occasionally stuttered. When the recitation was done, she turned her head to her lover. “Just one more thing,” she said. Lara produced a band of white cloth which she had palmed in her right hand. She slowly wrapped the piece of cloth over their joined hands while saying the last blessing. “Under Verea’s eyes, we are joined. May this marriage be as strong and everlasting as the love Verea has for all who lives.”  
With that, Lara announced happily, “We’re married! It is tradition for the married couple to kiss–”  
At the mention of ‘kiss’, Tarok practically lunged at Lara. He had been waiting impatiently ever since she put on the crown to show affection to his now wife. His lips mashed so hard against Lara’s that she would have fallen on her back had Tarok not caught her waist with his free hand. The intensity of the kiss sent heat waves throughout her body. Lara whimpered softly as Tarok kept pressing his lip against her, his hand doing circles on her back. When he finally pulled out for breath, Lara felt like fainting, and not just because of the lack of air. That kiss was the best one she’d had yet.  
“That was a bit…much,” Lara said breathlessly. “I don’t think anyone has ever kissed that passionately in front of Verea.”  
Tarok chortled. “Let’s go back. Or Verea might see much more than that.”  
“Tarokkkk!” yelled Lara. He suppressed a grin as his flustered wife reprimanded him. When aroused, she looked amazingly adorable.  
Lara removed the ceremonial binding strip of cloth, and they stood up. Tarok turned to the door but Lara lingered a moment more. She looked one last time at the temple and sighed. She’d missed this place. This had been her home for so long. But now, there’s a new home for her, the one she would build with Tarok. Together. She walked briskly to Tarok’s side and held his arm as husband and wife walked out into the daylight.  
\---***---  
During the returning trip, Lara told Tarok about the customs of a typical wedding. While he simply nodded at most details, the mention of consummation turned his head. Lara then learned that Tarok had assumed he had to wait until Lara was ready, which could be awhile. When Lara, with a barely suppressed giggle, informed him that they could complete their marriage tonight, he pushed the horses to maximum speed.  
They returned when the sun was midway down the skyline. The cart rolled into the inner courtyard past several questioning looks. Lara found out later that Erika had only told them that Tarok was out on “personal business” and they should wait for him for an explanation. When the cart stopped, Tarok directed one of his lieutenants who happened to stand by to tell the men that he would have an announcement tomorrow, then he led Lara inside the fort. The moment the couple stepped inside and closed the door, Tarok picked Lara up and walked briskly towards his bedroom. Lara was surprised, but when she looked at him for an answer and saw the teeming excitement in his eyes, she smiled and let him carry her. She shared his feeling because she too had been waiting for this moment the entire day.  
Tarok soon reached his bedroom’s door, nudged it open with his hands and closed it with a sweep of his hoof without glancing at it, and placed Lara to her feet. She quickly removed the cumbersome priestess garb and set the bridal crown on the nightstand.  
His eyes scanned Lara’s entire body, which was hidden under a thin shift. Tarok hungrily took in the sight of his wife’s slender legs, her trim waist, her delicate arms, her heaving breasts, and finally, to her beautiful face. His eyes asked Lara a wordless question. The need expressed in those blue orbs gave Lara a sensual shudder. She knew that she was not in danger, that he wouldn’t force her if she wasn’t ready tonight, although she suspected he might cry if she did that. She raised her arm and held his face in her hands.  
“I’m ready,” whispered Lara. Her soft voice caused his growing member to throb in his pants. His fists clenched so hard he could crush rock.  
_She looked so lovely._ He sniffed deeply. _And smelled so good._ He had to taste her. Tarok picked her up by the waist and claimed his wife’s mouth. Lara happily kissed him back, which prompted Tarok to increase his tempo. He even nipped and bit lightly at Lara’s lower lip. The excitement added to the deliciousness of the kiss and Lara moaned into Tarok’s mouth. She felt Tarok shifted his right hand to support her bottom while his left hand moved up and caressed her shoulder. Then she felt one finger tugged at the shoulder strap of her shift.  
“Hold my neck, Lara,” Tarok whispered to her ear. She did as he told and securely held on to him. With two flicks of his finger, Tarok unhooked the straps of Lara’s shift and it dropped to her waist, exposing her pale breasts to Tarok’s hungry eyes. He switched his left and right hands that were holding Lara to let the shift slip past her waist, down her dangling legs, and finally fall to the floor. Lara marveled at the fact that he had undressed her while holding her off the ground.  
“You’re beautiful,” muttered Tarok to his completely naked wife. Lara’s stomach fluttered.  
Lara's hands wandered to the neck of his tunic. “My turn,” Lara said and tugged. Tarok understood. He walked to the bed and let Lara stood on the mattress. Even when she was standing on the bed, she was barely taller than him. She quickly removed his shirt; for the pants, she sat on the edge of the bed and slowly undid the buckle. Her head was just above the level of his crotch. Despite the dim light of night, Lara couldn’t miss the large bulge in the front of his pants.  
The buckle dropped to the floor with a dull thud and Tarok’s pants quickly followed it to the floor. Lara stared breathlessly at the hardened maleness, finally free of its confinement, jutted proudly in front of her. She had seen it before, but this is the first time she looked at it with awe and even desire.  
She took in the sight of her husband in all his naked magnificent. Lara lifted her hands, but not to touch his erection. Instead, she ran her hands through Tarok’s chest and abdomen, feeling the contours of his musculature. The hardness of his body gave Lara a clear idea of the immense power coursing behind those muscles. Her delicate hands felt too good on Tarok’s rough hide, and he panted. Then her hands wandered south and finally touch his erection. Tarok hissed while she gasped quietly. It was hard and felt incredibly hot in her hands.  
Tarok had masturbated with her, but he didn’t draw attention to his cock, nor he let Lara touch it. He had worried that if Lara saw his cock, it would make unpleasant memories from the past resurfaced. But now, seeing her holding his shaft without reservation, Tarok’s body relaxed in immense relief, then immediately grew tense when Lara ran her hands slowly along his length.  
Lara inhaled the musky scent of his maleness. His intense arousal made the scent particularly potent. She slid her hands back and forth, feeling the steely hardness in contrast with her soft hands while she stroked. Lara felt her body getting hotter and hotter, and her breaths rapidly caught up with Tarok’s gasping pace. She kept one hand near the tip and the other around the base, moving them up and down in concert. Lara watched Tarok’s face contorted with exquisite pleasure, his mouth opened as he gasped for air. Despite her lack of experience, the simple stroking motion was making her man so happy, and Lara felt proud of herself. If his face wasn’t enough to show how much he enjoyed it, the sharp throbs of his cock certainly did.  
“Lara, stop,” uttered Tarok after one particular violent lurch of his cock. Lara removed her hands and watched mesmerized when a single droplet of lube dripped from his cockhead. Tarok bowed down and laid his hand on her shoulder. He guided her to lie down while he climbed on the bed. The mattress sunk under his weight. He settled above Lara, his knees on each side of her legs, hands by her shoulder.  
Tarok kissed her again, this time with even more force and vigor. He was no longer satisfied with a single long chaste kiss but desired short repeated kisses. Lara eagerly responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He lowered his body so that his chest touch Lara’s breasts, making his cock trapped between them. The heat of his body, especially of his erection, made Lara whimpered. A tiny part of her brain that was not consumed by the kisses noticed his hip began moving, his trapped cock ground against her stomach just below her bellybutton. She could feel the stickiness of precum being smeared on her belly, with more of them leaking out as Tarok humped. Lara squirmed underneath Tarok, not to escape but to feel as much of her husband as possible. Her legs rubbed his thighs, her hands scratched his back, her fingers digging into the thin layer of fur and hard muscles.  
Eventually, Tarok ended the kisses and moved his mouth down her body. Lara moaned throatily as she felt his inhumanly large tongue lapping at her neck. The flexible muscle gave such powerful and warm strokes that Lara shivered with delight. _She loved that tongue of his so much._ She instinctively arched her back and tipped her head backwards, giving him better access to her throat. Lara rewarded him by threading her hands into his thick mane and gave him light scratches. Tarok’s faint grunts amid the slurping sounds and the increasing speed of his licks tell her how much he appreciated it. And when his tongue touched her hard nipples, Lara cried out. He slipped one arm under Lara’s back, propping her up slightly, so he could feast on her trembling body. Tarok sucked on one of her nipples while one of his hands pinched the other, his tongue and fingers worked in tandem to get the most moans out of Lara. Lara thrashed in his arm—she was effectively cradled by him at this point. She was burning with desire, yet her inexperience body didn’t know what to do other than rubbing her legs against his hip.  
Tarok continued the sweet torture until his nose caught the unmistakable scent of Lara’s deepest arousal oozing from between her legs. _It’s time._ He set Lara down.  
Lara was panting so hard, she was almost sobbing. The pleasure from her teased nipples still reverberated through her body with each breath.  
“Ready?” asked Tarok as he climbed up, so his face was directly above her. He watched as Lara regained her breath from the intense pleasure. Lara squeezed her legs to contain the excitement from her pussy. She had never wanted anything more in her life. This was it, the moment she was going to complete her marriage.  
_Let your husband take the initiative on your first night. He knows what to do._ Lara remembered the advice that her mother gave years ago in preparation for her adulthood.  
She smiled at Tarok and nodded. Lara closed her eyes; her hands gripped the bedsheet. She braced herself and waited.  
And waited.  
Lara waited for about ten seconds more. Yet nothing happened. Curiously, she opened her eyes and saw an incredulous Tarok staring at her.  
“What are you doing?” asked Tarok.   
“I’m…waiting,” said Lara, the last word came out as an almost inaudible squeak. Tarok moved so that he sat by her side. She sat up too.  
Tarok squinted. “Waiting? You look like a prisoner waiting for the axe on the chopping block.”  
“I’m sorry, I…I didn’t know what to do,” Lara stammered. Her gut suddenly filled with shame. She looked down at her lap, avoiding his looks.  
He put an arm around Lara’s waist and pulled her to his lap. Lara habitually curled up and pressed her cheek against his broad chest.  
“Sex is not just you lie on the bed and wait. I don’t want you to be passive. I can’t enjoy this if you are so…stiff.”  
Lara listened and nodded. She shifted so that she could look up at him directly. “Please tell me what to do,” pleaded Lara.  
“Of course,” said Tarok. He quickly came up with a plan to loosen her up. He bent down and kissed her deeply. While Lara lost herself to the kiss, Tarok dropped his left hand to her butt, his right pressed Lara to his chest. Being so much bigger than a normal human, Tarok's hand was able to fully cup one of her ass cheeks, and he squeezed. Lara immediately squirmed, yet Tarok remained firm in his hold and a second later, she had melted in his arms. Her body became pliable soft dough for him to knead, and he did just that with her firm backside as much as he liked.  
After he was done kneading her flesh, Tarok snaked his hand into the cleft between her ass cheeks. His fingers quickly discovered the dampness of her pussy. He pushed two fingers alongside her nether lips, then retracted them and repeated. Once every two strokes, he slipped one finger between her slick labia and reached up to her clit, and played with her swollen nub. Immediately, Lara moaned into his mouth. Her body jolted as if she was being electrocuted. She thrashed and writhed from the stimulation but in his tight grip, she had nowhere to go. Desperately, she ground her hip against his hand, trying to give Tarok as much access as possible.  
Tarok pulled out of the kiss. He smiled at her. “See what you did there? Just let your body take over and do what it wants.”  
Lara nodded breathlessly. Tarok set her down on the bed. But he didn’t climb on top of her, not yet. There's still one more thing he planned to do.  
He crawled on the bed down Lara's body so that his head was above her pussy. He looked at her. Lara anxiously looked back at him.  
“And don’t be shy. Be as loud as you want.”  
Then he dived in. He had wanted to taste her the moment he caught a whiff of her arousal. Unlike the last time he tasted her pussy, he didn’t start slow. He slid his long tongue inside her, opening the wall of her pussy and lapping at her juice, while his hands caressed her inner thighs. Whenever his tongue was outside, he swept her pussy with his tongue and lingered the tip on her clit.  
Lara screamed.  
Her cries and wails fell on his bovine ears like music. He loved it. The intoxicating smell of her arousal and the delicious sounds she made reinvigorated Tarok’s cock, which had drooped a little while he comforted Lara. She raised her hips trying to get more of his tongue inside her, her thighs had at some point moved to enclose his head.  
The assault continued for several minutes until Lara couldn’t handle it anymore. She arched her back and came. Then she felt down, too tired to even whimpered.  
When Lara came back to her senses, she found herself gazing dreamily at Tarok’s blue eyes.  
“I think you’re ready,” said Tarok. And judging by his raging hard cock jutting from between his legs, he was too. He was so close to her face, his hot breath blowing on her neck gave Lara shivers. Lara wrapped her arms around his corded neck and hugged him tightly, her head nuzzled in the space between his chin and chest. “Make love to me,” murmured Lara.  
His cock jerked at her sultry invitation. He repositioned so that their parts lined up. He pushed his hip an inch or two and his tip touched her opening. Lara gasped and flinched.  
Tarok breathed in and out to control his excitement. Then he pushed his cockhead in a little, and a little more, until it slipped inside her. His cock was larger than normal, but she was already so wet that it slid in with ease. Both gasped audibly at the moment of penetration. Pausing for a moment, Tarok steadily pushed in more and more, going as slow as he could. Inch after inch disappeared inside Lara until he couldn’t push in anymore.  
Of all the pussies Tarok had fucked, he had never felt any as tight as Lara. Her slick, velvety folds enveloped his cock like no other, it was so good Tarok had to stay still to soak in the superb sensation. He gasped through his mouth, only able to make long guttural sounds.  
While her minotaur husband was rendered speechless above her, Lara was clinging hard to him. One reason was that she wanted to feel his body as much as she could; another was that she was waiting for the pain, which her mother had warned her about. When his thick cock entered into her hot and wet tunnel, he stretched her wall enough to send stings of pain through her body, but the slow speed of his penetration gave her time to relax. Then the amazing fullness when he bottomed inside her completely overwhelmed any sort of pain and filled Lara with so much pleasure. She opened her mouth and gasped.  
Hearing her moan woke Tarok up. “You’re a woman now,” he said.  
“I’m your woman,” she replied elatedly. Lara smiled at him, the happiest smile she ever had. The sight of his ecstatic wife was too erotic for Tarok to look at. He had the irresistible desire to claim her lips right then, and he did.  
While engaged in sensual lip-locking with Lara, Tarok slowly pulled back until his cock was almost outside. Lara shivered the entire time he pulled out, then moaned into his mouth when he pushed in again. He repeated thrusting several times, keeping the same slow and steady pace. The scent of honeysuckle assaulted his nose, and he sniffed deeply to smell it better. Despite the heavenly feeling that his aching cock was experiencing, his ears pricked up for any signs of pain or discomfort from Lara. There was none. He only heard the small cries and moans of pleasure from his wife. He captured all the loving sounds coming from her mouth and seemingly drank them. Tarok had never been drunk, but if he did, it must be something like how he’s feeling right now. His body was raging with heat and lust. He could feel nothing else. The world around them contracted to just him and his wife, to where their bodies were joined, to the steady thrusts of lovemaking, to the labored breaths and throaty moans and arousing scents. Time seemed to slow down as Tarok’s heightened senses took in the sights, sounds, feel, smell, and taste of his wife. _There was no other like her, and she loves him._ His heart throbbed as if it could explode from the happiness he’s feeling.  
As for Lara, she felt like she was about to burst. The novel feeling of a cock, and such a large one, pushing in and out of her depth was beyond words. It was different from his tongue, which was more flexible but lacked the dept of a hot-blooded hard cock. She wanted, no, needed to have more of him. Lara raised her hips to meet his thrust, her inexperience feet clumsily rubbed against his calves. Her moans grew louder, despite her mouth being sealed by Tarok’s lips. She pulled and scratched at his back, digging her nails into his hide.  
Tarok was vaguely aware of Lara’s nails — his mind was almost entirely consumed by pleasure and lust for his wife at this point — and this encouraged Tarok to pick up the pace and thrust faster. Ten, fifteen more strokes, and Lara crossed her threshold. Her orgasm peaked, and she exploded into thousands of pieces. Lara’s petite body writhed underneath Tarok, and she wailed through the best orgasm of her life. When it finally ended, her hands and feet fell to her side. Then she was sinking, falling further into the wonderful darkness of blissful sleep. With satisfied gasps, the last thing she remembered was a pair of blue eyes above her own.  
\---***---  
When Lara woke up the next morning, she’d never felt better in her life. Not just because of having sex for the first time, which was wonderful, but because she was enveloped by Tarok’s warmth. He was spooning her from behind, his torso touched her back. His left arm served as her pillow while his right pawed her belly, her legs intertwined with his thighs.  
Lara sighed with utter happiness. Tarok rarely held her like this to sleep. Most of the time he placed her on top since it was easier to hold her that way; other times she slept curling by his side, hugging him. Tarok said he didn’t want Lara to be even an inch away from him while they slept. And she didn’t want to be away from him either, since sleeping with him had removed the need for a blanket.  
The cheeriness she’s feeling right now astonished Lara, considering what she had lost yesterday. The virginity that she had cherished all her life was no more and Lara couldn’t help but sense some vague melancholia. She did nothing wrong—she had married Tarok before willingly giving herself to him, and the lack of any regret in her this morning told her she made the right choice.  
Lara looked at her husband's left hand, stretching out in front of her. She pressed her palm against his hand, matching fingers to compare the size. Her hand looked like the hand of a toddler against an adult-size palm—his was easily twice the size of her. She ran her fingers over the calluses and scars on his fingers, the remnants of past warfare. Then her hand wandered up his forearm, feeling the thin soft layer of fur and the hardened muscles beneath it. She pressed down but failed to make an impression on his flesh.  
Her curious hands woke Tarok up, and the first thing he did was to neck her. Lara laughed when she felt his tongue licking her cheek.  
“Good morning, Tarok,” Lara greeted as she turned around to face him.  
Tarok was still groggy after just waking up, but seeing Lara knocked the sleep out of him. As she smiled at him, Tarok saw her curved lips and raised cheekbones displaying the universal sign of happiness. The giddiness that she’s radiating warmed his soul. Tarok’s heart forgot to beat for a second when he realized the young girl— _his lovely wife_ —was practically glowing in the morning light. The hulking minotaur was powerless when faced with her contagious smile and had no choice but to reciprocate. _This must be what it feels like to be in love._  
“Morning, Lara,” said Tarok. He sat up and leaned against the headboard of the bed, in the process pulled Lara onto his lap. “How do you feel?” asked Tarok.  
“Could not be better,” replied Lara. She bounced on his lap and gave him a peck on the lip. Tarok observed with glee how the usually reserved Lara was now bursting with energy. He should have sex with her every day, just to see her giddy like this.  
“Glad to hear it,” said Tarok.  
“What about you? Do you—” Lara chirped. But then, as if realized something, she stopped talking. She stared at him intently, then her face morphed into a horrified expression.  
“Oh no, I forgot. I’m sorry,” she exclaimed and covered her mouth.  
The sudden change in Lara’s mood alarmed Tarok. Lara apologized again before he could say anything.  
“I’m so sorry, I fell asleep and I…I forgot about you,” Lara explained. “I forgot to take care of your need.”  
“Oh, that.” Now Tarok understood why Lara was upset. After her orgasm, she had drifted off to sleep and left him without one.  
“It was our first time together, and I ruined it. I’m your wife and I suppose to make you enjoy it too. Instead, I just fell asleep.” Lara continued to blame herself.  
“Who says I didn’t enjoy last night?” That caught Lara’s attention. She looked at him with her wide brown eyes. “Last night was great for me too, because I know how happy you were when we did it. When we are joined, I have never felt better in my life. I couldn’t ask for more from you.” He cupped her cheek and playfully brushed her nose with his thumb, causing Lara to flinch and giggle at the silly gesture. She pressed her face against his hand.  
“Thank you, Tarok. I’m so glad I married you.”  
“I didn’t expect you to be a natural first time in bed, and you shouldn’t either. You’ll get better with time.” Tarok then lowered his head to Lara’s face. “I’ll make sure to give you lots of practice,” said Tarok with a grin.  
The lewd promise made Lara's stomach churned. It was definitely enticing. She got on her knees so that her face was on his level.  
“I don’t mind some practice right now. I want to make up to you,” said Lara. Never in a million years did Lara imagine she would initiate sex right after a man offer it. But Tarok was special.  
Steam blew out of Tarok’s nose, and he fiercely pulled Lara in for a toe-curling kiss. He held her so tight that she whimpered and had to tap at his shoulder. Tarok ended the kiss reluctantly. His eyes burned with a blue fire of deep desire.  
“Calm down Tarok. I want to please you, not the other way around,” said Lara, out of breath.  
Tarok huffed, yet he still released Lara. “Fine, what do you have in mind?”  
“Well, um…” Lara thought for a few seconds. “I can use my…mouth,” Lara suggested.  
At that suggestion, Tarok's reaction was a weird mix of aroused and reluctant.  
“Are you sure? We can do something else.”  
Lara knew why Tarok was hesitant. “It’s fine. I’m fine, Tarok. I just want to make my husband happy,” asserted Lara. She slid down Tarok's body and crawled between his legs. Tarok sat still and watched with bated breath at Lara’s every movement.  
“If you feel uncomfortable, then stop,” said Tarok.  
Lara looked up at him and nodded, her round brown eyes gave him a look of love and appreciation. _He cared about her so much._  
“Guide me, Tarok,” said Lara.  
“You could put it straight in your mouth, or play with your hand first,” Tarok suggested. Lara took hold of his cock in her hand and gently slid her hands up and down the rapidly growing shaft. Tarok groaned with every of her movement. Lara watched with fascination as she saw, and felt his cock hardening and getting longer. It quickly filled out her hand, and in mere seconds, he was fully hard.   
“I love you, Lara,” Tarok said weakly.  
Lara looked at her panting husband and answered his loving words, wordlessly, with her mouth.  
Tarok hissed when he felt her diminutive mouth touching his cock. Like the first time she did this, Lara struggled to fit his cock in her mouth—he was too big. She pulled out and tried again, this time she stretched her jaws wider and managed to slip his bulbous tip past her lips. With his cockhead finally in her mouth, she began pushing further down his length while holding the base of his cock for balance.  
Tarok watched with rapt attention as Lara swallowed more and more of him. His shaft was slowly being enveloped by her soft and warm mouth, and it felt too good. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, as the most erotic sight he had ever seen in his life was happening right between his legs.  
It had happened before, but it was under a different circumstance, one where Lara was too frightened to remember and Tarok just wanted to forget forever. He was a clueless cruel beast back then. For the old Tarok, sexual acts merely satisfied a primal need. He paid or forced others to pleasure him, enjoyed a brief flash of ecstasy, then forgot about it until the primal urge reappeared.  
The first time Lara sucked his cock was no different. He looked yet saw nothing, he ejaculated but felt nothing. Nothing but a brief moment of sexual gratification. Now things were entirely different. Now, there was a girl who voluntarily _wanted_ to give him pleasure. The gratification had changed too: now he felt loved and happy. With Lara, sex was a thousand times more fulfilling than all previous times.  
When Tarok’s shaft had filled Lara’s mouth completely and she couldn’t push in anymore, Lara paused and looked up at him, waiting for instructions. The sight of her twinkling beady eyes and her little mouth full of his cock almost sent Tarok over the edge. He looked at the ceiling for a couple of seconds.  
“Ahhhhh, start…pulling your head back, when you reach the tip, push back in. Don’t rush, do it at your own pace,” panted Tarok. As Lara set forth to do that, he grabbed one of her hands and guided her to stroke the rest of his cock where her mouth couldn’t reach. Soon Lara was able to set into a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down his length with determination.  
Lara didn’t know what was more erotic: the naughty slurping sounds that’s coming from her mouth or the hisses and gasps of her husband. Whatever it was, she found out that she liked giving Tarok oral, simply because it got more reactions out of him than penetrating sex like last night.  
Finally, after excruciating yet marvelously long minutes of sucking and stroking, Tarok felt the boiling cum in his balls could not be contained any longer. Beneath him, Lara didn't notice the signs of his impending climax and was still happily sucking. He growled, “I’m coming. Pull back but…aghhh…not completely.” Lara complied. He figured he still had a few seconds more, but as Lara pulled her head back, her tongue accidentally brushed his cockslit and Tarok exploded. His head tipped back and he roared as his sperm slathered Lara’s mouth. His hard cock jerked violently, his hip bucked, pushing his cock into her mouth a bit, yet Lara bravely held on and kept his seed sealed tight in her mouth. The forcefulness of his climax scared Lara a bit.  
When he was finally spent, Lara withdrew from his glistening cock. She reached to the nightstand and looked for something to empty her mouth but Tarok put a hand on her shoulder.  
“Swallow it,” said Tarok, still panting.  
Lara looked at him with a mouthful of sperm. _Swallow? That’s so lewd!_  
“Please?” He didn’t care that he's begging, he had to see it.  
Lara blinked several times before she acquiesced. With one big gulp, the product of his love went down her throat. The saltiness lingered on her tongue, but overall, it didn’t taste bad.  
Tarok hand went on her face to brush her left cheek. “I love you,” said Tarok with an appreciated smile.  
“Do you like it?”  
Tarok regarded her with a curious look. Then he laughed. He didn’t expect such an innocent question after she had just sucked his cock.  
“You just swallowed my answer.” Tarok grinned at her. “Next time, more kissing and touching before you put it in would be better.”  
Lara laughed. Tarok did too, but their laughter was rudely interrupted by a loud bang on the door.  
“Tarok, it’s an emergency,” cried Erika.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, i wonder what will happen next. By the way, next chapter will be the end of this story. Thanks for reading and see you next week!


	9. The end

The fire crackled softly in the hearth and served as the only sound in Erika’s room. It was just after midday, but the weather was cold and gloomy enough that Erika had to keep the fireplace lit all day. Last night, there was snow for the first time.  
The old secretary sat next to the fire with a steamy cup in her hands, watching her young assistant walking impatiently back and forth.  
“You said he was on his way back?”  
“Yes, for the fifth time Lara. I received his pigeon this morning.”  
Lara sighed. She walked to the window and stared at the horizon. Still nothing but grey sky and wet ground. She folded her arms on the windowsill. _It’s been seven days._  
A week ago, Erika roused Tarok from his room after she’d received a message by pigeon. One of Tarok allies in the region was besieged by a group of outlaws while escorting a caravan of traders. They managed to retreat to another fort two days away from here and had requested help.  
“Do you really have to go?” murmured Lara as Tarok hastily put on his clothes. His men were already waiting for him outside. Tarok finished getting dressed and turned to Lara.  
“Yes, I must help him. He’s my closest friend. He had helped me more times than I want to admit. Northerners don’t abandon each other, Lara.”  
“Can I come with you?”  
“NO.” Tarok cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I can’t. It’s dangerous. I can’t bear to put you at any kind of risk. You stay inside the fort and do whatever Erika tells you to do,” said Tarok. He didn’t raise his voice again, but his tone indicated that his demand was nonnegotiable.  
Lara slumped on the edge of the bed, defeated. “This is so unfair. We’ve just got married. I didn’t have a day with you yet and you have to leave already.”  
Tarok frowned. Lara hadn’t cried, but she was very upset. Tarok sat next to Lara and hugged her. Lara melted in his embrace and returned the hug, feeling the warmth of his chest with her cheek.  
“I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible. I know this is hard for you; it is for me too.” He pulled out of the hug and lifted her chin. “I have asked you to do this before, and I ask again: Can you be strong for me, Lara?”  
Lara looked up at Tarok. “I will,” Lara said. She didn’t look as upset as before, but wariness appeared on her face.  
“What if you get hurt?”  
“I’m not worried, they’re just a bunch of scruffy mountain thieves. They can’t hurt me,” assured Tarok. Seeing Lara not convinced, he added, “Look at me, Lara. Then look at my axe. Wouldn’t you rather run away than stay and fight if you see me holding it and advancing towards you?”  
Lara pondered for a few seconds before nodding. The worst thing that could happen to him was a few cuts, but Lara could patch him up with no problem now. Besides, minotaur healed fast. The thought soothed her stormy mind.  
“And one more thing. Smile for me, Lara. I can’t leave if the last thing I see from my wife is sadness.”  
Lara gazed at her lover’s face and smiled. His request was too sweet not to comply. Smiling was not the only thing that she gave him though, as Lara leaned forward and kissed him. But before he could return the kiss, Lara ended it.  
“If you want more, you have to come back to me.”  
“Can’t I get even one more kiss?” asked Tarok. Lara shook her head firmly.  
“Only when you return. So come back to me as soon as you can,” said Lara with determination. It was one of the very few occasions in her life where Lara displayed resolute willpower.  
Tarok gritted his teeth. He wrestled with himself mentally not to pull her in and claim that kiss. The fact that Lara was trying to be tough made Tarok find her even more charming. But he inhaled deeply and relented to her demand.  
“Alright, I’ll be back as soon as I can. And you should know that when I return, I want much more than just a kiss.” The delicious threat made Lara's stomach fluttered.  
“And you will come to see me as soon as you can?” asked Lara.  
“I promised. And the day after I come back, I will announce our marriage to everyone. It should have happened today, but it seems fate is not kind to us.”  
“As long as I’m still your wife, I don’t mind a little delay.”  
A loud bang on the door interrupted their conversation. Erika told them that the men were anxious to leave.  
“I should go,” said Tarok. He went for a hug, to which Lara didn’t object. He sniffed her hair, taking in the scent of honeysuckle that he’d be sure to miss. Then Tarok stood up and walked out of the room. He closed the door while looking at Lara one last time. She smiled at him.  
\---***---  
“Have patient, Lara,” said Erika calmly. “He set off yesterday, and the trip takes two days, so if he came back here today, it wouldn’t be until late at night.” She sipped from the cup.  
Lucky for Lara, Erika was wrong. In the late afternoon, Tarok and his men as well as some other soldiers came clamoring back with a new wagon loaded with goods. Lara later learned that the merchants were so grateful for the rescue that they doubled the pay in the form of goods. Tarok was riding on that wagon, and sitting next to him was a bald, stocky man with a long beard. He was so big that Lara was sure Tarok was the only one bigger than him, except for his belly, he won on that count. The bald man talked and laughed loudly while Tarok, holding the reins, occasionally nodded or chuckled.  
“That was Eustace, Tarok’s closest friend and ally. He’s a northerner, like Tarok. They have known each other since Tarok assumed leadership of his band. Looks like Eustace and his men came back with Tarok,” said Erika to Lara. Both women were watching from the top of the watchtower. Lara and Erika had rushed to get up there the moment they heard a guard shouted Tarok’s arrival.  
The wagons, packed with valuable goods, rolled into the courtyard amid cheers from the fort’s garrison. The men didn’t unload the wagons, however; they just left it in the courtyard. Several of them immediately went into the fort’s cellar and brought out barrels of wine and ale. Outside the fort, a giant fire was lit. It seemed that a celebration was in order. This annoyed Erika since they were taking stuff out of the stockpile and not telling her. The old woman promptly stormed down the step. Lara stayed behind. She wanted to run down and meet Tarok, but Erika advised her to stay out of sight until Tarok came to see her privately since Tarok’s men and the newly arrived guests didn’t know that she was his wife yet. Being with Tarok before the proper announcement could complicate things.  
While Tarok was away, Lara followed Erika around the camp, and in the process, she made acquaintances with a few soldiers guarding the fort. Their general impression about her was that Lara served as Erika’s assistant or maidservant and, of course, Tarok’s slave, so they left her alone. From the few chats she had with them, Lara found they were rough, hardy men, but behaved cordially in front of her.  
As people filed out of the gate to the campfire outside, Tarok suddenly glanced at the watchtower, looking up in Lara’s direction. She waved at him, but he looked away immediately when his fat companion caught his attention again with a punch on the shoulder. Then he laughed. His stories seemed to always end with him laughing. The jovial big man had not left Tarok’s side for even a second since they got off the cart. They joined the men outside, who was calling for their leaders.  
Lara retracted her hand to her chest. She wondered if he saw her. Probably not. But Lara could have sworn he did look at her for a second. As her mind wandered, an unpleasantness started spreading inside Lara. She hurried downstairs as the wind was making her shiver. As she walked, Lara found herself alone. The fort was empty: everyone had come outside to join the victory feast. With nothing to do, she walked to Erika’s room and sat there. The scene at the tower kept playing in her head despite her effort to push it away. She couldn’t help but feeling more and more alone as she remembered Tarok looking away.  
_What’s happening?_  
After thirty minutes of sitting in silence, Lara decided to head to the cellar. The sun had set, making the usually dark and damp room even dingier. Lara watched Erika walking around the cellar, doing an inventory check. The only light source was the torch on Erika's hand and a couple others at the entrance. Lara sat on an empty barrel, her back against the wall. She heard Erika complaining about having to restock the store “just when winter has come”. In the poorly lit room, the old woman couldn’t see the worried expression on Lara’s face.  
Eventually five soldiers, already quite drunk, come down to carry off two more barrels of ale. They insisted that Erika join the party because Eustace “miss the old gal” and he “demand a rematch of that drinking game”. Erika rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and refused, but when one man proposed carrying her out end-to-end as they did with the barrels, she sighed and relented. The men left the cellar cheering and laughing with Erika.  
Alone again, Lara grabbed a piece of bread and a slice of cheese for dinner. Her hand was shaking as she put food in her mouth, she forced herself to swallow despite not feeling hungry. Her ears were numb to the sound of revelries outside, which was probably why she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps until Tarok swung the door open and stepped inside.  
“Lara,” exclaimed Tarok. His face brightened under the torchlight, and he walked briskly to her. Lara jumped to her feet when she heard him called. Tarok approached her but stopped two feet away from his wife. He saw her grimace, which killed his gleeful mood.  
“Is something wrong?” he asked. Lara stood by her spot. The cold reception from his wife left Tarok confounded. “Don’t you miss me?” he asked when he saw her avoiding his eyes.  
Lara blinked. Did she hear the hurt in his voice? “Don’t I…Do you miss me?”  
“What—yes, of course,” Tarok answered as if Lara had just asked him if the sky was blue.  
Both Tarok and Lara stared at each other with utter confusion. The silence between them was broken when Lara finally burst. “I miss you. I miss you so much. I waved at you from the tower, but you didn’t respond. And you didn’t come to see me like you promised. I thought you forgot about me.”  
Tarok listened to Lara without saying a word. He took a step forward and knelt.  
“Lara, you save my life. You are the reason that I live, I can never stop caring about you,” Tarok whispered to his distraught wife. “And I miss you too. So much. I come back as soon as I can to see you.” Tarok stroked his head. “I didn’t see you waving at me. I do not forget my promise, Lara. Eustace is very happy with our victory. He’d been following me around all day and I can’t just ignore him. I decide to keep him company until the party’s over to see you. That way we can have all the time for ourselves.”  
Lara listened, and she understood. It would be weird if he left his best friend to see a girl that everyone thought was his slave. “How do you know I’m here?”  
“Erika told me. She came and kept him occupied, leaving me some time to find you.”  
Lara sighed in relief. All her doubts and worries had been proven false. Hearing Tarok explanation touched Lara so much, she reached forward and hugged him.  
“I’m so sooo sorry. I’m such a fool for doubting you,” Lara apologized.  
Tarok froze. His mouth opened when Lara touched him, but no words came out except a deep “arghh” groan.  
“Oh gods, are you hurt?” Lara stepped away from him immediately, her eyes scanned his body for cuts and bandages, but there was none.  
“Urghh. No, it’s…not that.” Tarok grunted as he stood up. He turned away from Lara and adjusted his pants. He inhaled deeply and turned back to his confused wife.  
“Do you remember what I said about minotaur’s need?”  
Lara's eyes widened as she remembered. Then she became flustered too.  
“But…I only hugged you.”  
“It’s been a week. I miss your scent, your touch, and, well, you. A lot.”  
Lara heard his timid confession and her confusion turn to bemused understanding.  
“I had to return to the party, they are probably wondering where I’m going. After it is done, we can be together. I’m sorry you have to be alone this evening. I make it up for you tonight. This I truly promise.”  
“I believe you. I’ll wait for you in your bedroom.”  
“No, Lara. It’s our bedroom.”  
Lara smiled and nodded. She wanted to jump onto him and kiss him so much.  
Tarok walked to the back of the cellar and pick up two barrels. He carried each one on his shoulder and walked to the door. Lara watched in awe as he easily performed the work that needed four adult men to do.  
“Tarok, wait,” shouted Lara. Her husband glanced back at her from the doorway. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but can you…take a…bath before coming in?”  
Tarok laughed so hard that he almost dropped the barrels. “Of course,” said Tarok. Then he disappeared.  
Lara was relieved that Tarok took her request in good humor. She loved him, now more than ever, but he spent a week on the road, and it showed when she hugged him.  
Lara left the cellar and run to the bedroom. She was angry with herself for doubting her wonderful husband, but for now, Lara put it aside. The horrible feeling inside her was gone; her husband truly and deeply loved her, and he desired her so much that even a touch from her aroused him. The thought of him getting an erection from a hug made Lara chuckled.  
Lara walked to the bedroom. Before she entered though, she took a bath in the washroom and wore her husband’s favorite fragrance, honeysuckle-scented oil. After the bath, Lara lit the fireplace and made the bed. She pushed the blanket aside. With Tarok’s home, she wouldn’t need it anymore.  
Lara brushed her wet hair with the help of a mirror. Erika found it when Tarok first moved into the fort. The previous owner of the fort left trinkets and old furniture behind in the dusty cellar. The mirror was caked in a layer of dust and rust, but after a day of heavy scrubbing, it reflected light well enough for her to use. Lara guessed that the mirror belonged to the wife of the commanding officer because of the flowery decoration of the frame, and she probably threw it away because of the broken handle. Lara had always wanted a mirror as a child, but her mother couldn’t afford one. To think there was a time the kingdom was prosperous enough that people could throw away a still usable mirror. Lara sighed.  
Lara pulled from the bedroom wardrobe a mass of dark gray pelts and set it on her lap. It was a half-finished winter cloak with a sewing kit in the middle. Might as well work on her things while waiting, Lara thought. Erika supplied the fur from the fort’s storage. Lara had spent the past couple of days working on it for Tarok, even though Erika suggested it wasn’t necessary. “He had thick enough skin already” was her rationale, which Lara wasn’t sure was a joke or not. She planned to make one for the old woman too after Lara was done with this one.  
The winter cloak was the second piece of clothing that Lara made. She’s wearing her first one: a white chiffon nightdress. Unlike her modest cotton shift, this one was sheer and shorter, due to a lack of material. The dress cut off just below her butt, exposing most of her legs. It was the first time Lara had ever worn something that short, even skimpier than the tattered gown she wore in the forest. Lara felt somewhat anxious wearing it for the first time, but she told herself that only Tarok would ever see her in it. Besides, she looked forward to seeing his reaction.  
Lara worked on the cloak for almost an hour. She was in the middle of putting the finishing touches to it when she heard the door creaking open and the imposing figure of Tarok loomed in the doorway.  
“Tarok,” Lara exclaimed. She put the unfinished cloak on the nightstand and stood up. She was about to run towards him, but she stopped when Tarok closed the door and turned to her.  
He was naked.  
Lara stared at him slack-jawed. He had taken a bath—Lara saw moisture on his skin—and he hadn’t bothered to put his clothes back on. The fort was empty, after all. On his left hand, Lara saw his pants and tunic, and on his right, a towel.  
When Tarok saw his wife, it was his turn to be stunned. After he was sure that everybody was efficiently drunk enough for him to sneak off, Tarok came inside. While washing himself, Tarok drew up plans of what to do when he finally got his beautiful wife in his arms. Maybe he would start with a little cuddling or kissing and petting; then, he would move on to the long-awaited fumbling under-the-sheet fun. Whatever it was, he planned to make his wife the happiest girl in the kingdom tonight. The cold water cooled his head enough so that he didn’t walk into the bedroom with a jutting erection.  
Then he saw his wife in that dress. His eyes scanned her pale, exposed shoulders covered only by two thin straps which connected to a sexy nightgown that he had never seen before. That dress did a wonderful job of showing off the elegant curves of Lara’s petite body due to its sheerness. His gaze inevitably dropped down to her smooth creamy legs unhidden by the short nightgown. And those thighs, by gods those juicy thighs. Lara looked outrageously cute in her new outfit.  
The sight of her exposed legs pumped so much blood into his crotch so fast that a typical man would have passed out. Tarok didn’t faint, but something in his head snapped. Something primal. His heart went to overdrive, sending waves of lust through his body, crashing through the dam of conscious restraints.  
In two wide leaps that were more like a predator’s lunge, Tarok closed the distance between him and his wife. Lara didn’t even have time to realize what had happened until she was swept up her feet and dropped on the bed with Tarok above her. Lara yelped, but since her lips were immediately claimed by Tarok’s mouth, no sound but a muffled “mmmm” escaped her throat. Lara was trapped between the bed and hundreds of pounds of muscles above her. The sultry heat from his body, compounded by the effect of alcohol, enveloped her like hot water in a bathtub.  
Tarok hands went for her breasts, but the fabric of the dress prevented him complete access. He growled like a wolf being denied its share of the meat. He broke the kiss and raised himself up.  
“Wait, Tarok, let me undr…”  
But he couldn’t wait. Lara saw for a second the blazing blue fire burning in his eyes, full of desire and lust before she noticed his hands. They grabbed the neck of her dress and in one swift motion, tore it cleanly in half. Lara was too shocked to even gasp.  
Tarok eyed her now completely expose chest and at the two pink hard peaks rising and falling with her abated breaths, and it drove him mad. He palmed her chest with one hand and the other roamed freely on her body, both kneading the smooth soft flesh of her body. While his hands played with Lara like a doll, he lunged and devoured her pale neck. There were no soft kisses like Lara used to, this time Tarok sucked and licked with abandon. After a particularly delicious moan from Lara, he even bit her once, like a predator toying with its prey.  
Lara was completely at his mercy now. She swooned and whimpered every time he pinched her nipples hard enough that her back arched. She froze with trepidation when she felt his teeth on her throat. His teeth sank not too much that it hurt, but good enough that Lara couldn’t resist craning her neck, giving him better access to her most vulnerable body part. Her husband’s aggressiveness scared Lara witless, but it also filled her with newfound excitement, so much that her pussy quickly dampened.  
Tarok’s animal nose sniffed the scent of Lara’s desire, and he changed his target. The desire to sink his cock to her wet channel was all-consuming. Tarok shifted his body forward and dug his nose into her hair, one of his hand grabbed Lara’s shoulder and held her in place while he sniffed and nudged. Lara’s mind was almost reduced to mush, being submerged in this new desire of submission to Tarok’s want. But the small part of her brain that was still awake noticed that Tarok was repositioning his cock for penetration. His cock poked her thigh as Tarok shifted upward. Her body immediately froze. It was so hard and hot on her skin, his length felt like newly forged iron. Lara grabbed his shoulder. “Wait, Tarok, not yet,” she whimpered.  
He couldn’t hear her. He raised his hip and lined up his rod with her opening, the tip was leaking with need.  
Lara panicked. She wasn’t ready, especially when he’s being aggressive like this. Luckily, in a moment of fright-induced clarity, she remembered a way to stop him. Lara hugged his neck. Her hands frantically searched and found his sweet spot just below the nape and pressed it down with all her strength.  
He roared in pain. His body froze and lurched forwards. His hip slammed into her, but his cock missed its intended target and slid between their stomachs. Every muscle in his massive body tensed up as if he had been hit by lightning. Lara was spared from being crushed by his bulky mass thanks to Tarok’s elbows keeping his upper body hovering just an inch above her. The sweet spot worked so well that he couldn’t move, and after five seconds Lara realized he couldn’t breathe either. She loosened the pressure a bit.  
The effect was noticeable. Tarok muscles relaxed a bit, and he was able to draw slow laborious breaths again.  
“Tarok, please calm down. You’ll hurt me.”  
Her plead penetrated the lustful fog that had covered Tarok’s mind. He lifted his head, which was buried in the bedsheet when he fell forward and saw the fright on her face. His senses restarted, and he could smell her terror and felt the shakiness in her hands. The lustful fog immediately dissipated and was replaced by gut-wrenching guilt.  
“Did I…hurt you?” asked Tarok.  
“N-no, but you’re scaring me.”  
He breathed in deeply. Tarok straightened his arms and shifted his body up, away from Lara.  
“You can…let go of me now.”  
Lara was still frightened, but his eyes were no longer burning like before. They were the same as she had always remembered. She let go of him. With the pressure on his sweet spot relieved, Tarok’s muscles worked again. He got off Lara and knelt on the bed. Lara did too.  
“I’m sorry. I…lost control of myself. I didn’t mean…to scare you,” Tarok said between each laborious breath.  
Tarok looked at the bedsheet in shame. Lara followed his gaze and noticed his throbbing cock. The thing was so swollen and hard, it seemed painful. And it’s still leaking with every throb.  
“You’re in discomfort, right?” asked Lara.  
Tarok nodded quietly.  
“And you need relief.”  
He nodded again. It pained Lara to see her husband in this state.  
“Let me help you,” said Lara. She edged closer to him and took his shaft in her hands. Tarok gasped and slumped forward, almost knocking her over. Lara started moving her hands up and down his cock. Despite her slow starting strokes, Tarok seized up as if she was giving him the most mind-blowing handjob of all time. He stumbled forward and had to grab the headboard of the bed above Lara’s head to hold himself up. Lara was once again stuck, this time between the headboard and her husband’s hulking body. His breaths grew even quicker as Lara continued with her hands, his body shook with such intensity that Lara feared he could collapse. Still, she focused on her task and increased her pace.  
He didn’t last long. Less than a minute later, his cock jerked once, then twice, then he came. It was like an explosion. Stuck between the headboard and Tarok’s body, Lara had nowhere to go, so she aimed his cock at her stomach. His hip bucked forwards, and he humped her hands with every spurt of come. She sat still and patiently let streams of searing hot semen splattered on her body. Lara held on and endured for her husband.  
The orgasm took almost a minute to finish. Tarok came enough to soak her completely from the neck down. Lara felt like she was having a fever over how hot her skin felt.  
Tarok panted for a solid minute. When he had recovered, he dropped a hand to rub his wife’s shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head.  
“Thank you, Lara. I really need that,” whispered Tarok.  
She looked up at him. He was flustered, but that palpable lust was no longer on his face. Lara sighed in relief. He had returned to his normal self.  
Tarok surveyed his wife and the mess that she’s in, then he grabbed a towel on the nightstand, which Lara had prepared earlier, and proceeded to wipe Lara clean of his come.  
“Thank you,” Lara said while her husband took care of her. She made a mental note to wash that towel tomorrow. And the bedsheet too. All this laundry could take the entire morning. The mundanity of the chores after Tarok’s intense rampage amused her so much, Lara chuckled.  
“What is it?” Tarok asked while wiping between her thighs.  
“Nothing much. I was thinking what a mess you just made.”  
He gave her a funny look, then he chortled.  
“I’m sorry. But not being with you for a week did that to me.”  
“Is that also the reason why you jumped at me like that?”  
Tarok sighed. He sat down beside her and put the dirty towel away. “When I was on the road, it’s hard being cold and wet. Sleeping in a tent is not good either, but I was ready for all of that. What I didn’t expect was how much I missed you, I can’t stop thinking about you at night when I’m trying to sleep. And I’m a minotaur, with my instinctual need. It frustrated me so much this past week. And when I come in and see you in that dress, so lovely, so desirable… I lost control of myself, Lara.”  
Lara and Tarok both looked at the tattered chiffon dress.  
“Forgive me. Not just about the dress, but also about how I acted. I’m sorry I scared you. Thanks the gods you stopped me in time. I would never hurt you on purpose. This won't happen again, I swear.”  
“I forgive you. And I need to apologize, too. I doubted you. I was such a stupid and needy girl.” Lara folded her arms under her chest. “I was so wrong to think that you were uncaring. I guess...,” Lara paused and swallowed, “I guess I was afraid. You are the only one in this world that I can call family, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you not loving me anymore.”  
Tarok could say a thousand words to assure her of his faithfulness, to show how much he loved her. But he said much less than that. “I love you. That will never change.”  
And it was enough for Lara. She smiled at him gratefully. Tarok put a hand on her waist and pulled her to his side. Lara leaned her head on his chest.  
Tarok picked up the pieces of fabric that used to be Lara’s nightdress. The dress, or what left of it, looked like a little girl’s clothes in his hand.  
“I’ll tell Erika to buy you a new one.”  
“Tarok, I made it myself.”  
Tarok looked as if someone had dropped a ton of rock on his hoof.  
“You looked really beautiful in it,” he muttered weakly.  
Lara chuckled at how funny his guilty face looked. “You don’t have to flatter me. I'll make another. Do you have any suggestions?”  
“For the dress?”  
“Yes. I wear it for you too, you know.”  
“Well, in that case, if you can make it shorter—”  
“Tarokkk!” Lara yelled, but she couldn’t help but laugh at his request. Tarok laughed too. Lara was happy again, which pleased him. Speaking of pleasing…  
“Can we talk about clothing tomorrow? My lovely wife has been by herself all week, and I bet she wants some attention now,” said Tarok, turning to Lara.  
Lara’s face grew hot at his suggestion. She said shyly, “I’d love that very much.”  
Tarok wasted no time. He kissed Lara and picked her up into his arms without breaking the kiss. Lara moaned breathlessly as she felt her husband easily handled her like a doll. And Lara loved it. His left hand held her midsection while the other went south and explored her firm backside. He kneaded and squeezed her soft flesh, savoring the feeling of Lara’s body after a long week being away from it.  
Tarok’s cock, which remained stiff after his first ejaculation, now ached and throbbed again. The undulation of Lara’s stomach against it excited the pulsing shaft even more, and soon it leaked lubricant again. It felt so good that Tarok couldn’t ignore his shaft anymore. He ended the kiss.  
Lara looked into his burning eyes and knew what he wanted. “Let me lay down first,” said Lara.  
“No need. We do it now.” Tarok guided her legs so they encircled his waist. Then both of his hands held on to her butt.  
“While sitting?”  
Tarok nodded. “Guide me in with your hands,” he said by her ear.  
Lara wasn’t expecting to try a new position for her second time, but the sultry heat of his breath by her ear convinced her right away. He lifted her up while Lara fumbled with his cock underneath. She gasped at how much heat his cock was radiating. Slowly, Lara angled the flared, dripping cockhead at her own opening.  
“Ready?” Tarok asked. Lara nodded. He gently lowered her, pausing for a second when his tip met her moist lips.  
“Ahhh”, Lara moaned and Tarok hissed. Lara’s hands were nice, but the feeling of penetration was unparalleled, especially when it was Lara’s pussy that was enveloping him. Just like Lara’s first time, Tarok penetrated her slowly and lowered Lara inch by inch, letting her body get used to his cock. When he reached the limit of Lara’s depth, Tarok stopped and let the mind-numbingly good feeling to sink in fully. “I loved this,” uttered Tarok. Lara just mewled her agreement.  
Tarok lifted her up and set her down slowly. _Her labia gripped his cock so wonderfully._  
He did it again. She resumed hugging him. Her head rested on his shoulder.  
He did it again. Tarok could hear the wet squishing sound of his cock rubbing her pussy lips. She was so wet.  
By the fourth time, they were properly fucking. Tarok bounced Lara on his lap in a gentle rhythm. He wanted to focus on his wife for now. Since he had his orgasm, it would be a while before he felt the need to unload again.  
Lara desperately clung onto his chest, not because he was going too fast—although he was getting close to it—but because she felt too good; she thought that if she let go of him, she would flail backward. Her legs had turned into dough, her hands to jelly. She wanted to scream, but her mouth was too busy moaning and gasping to do it. Her body didn’t follow her orders anymore. Now it was Tarok who controlled it. It was he who lifted her up and down, it was he who set the tempo, and it was his cock that went in and out of her pussy, giving her pleasure beyond her imagination. With a firm grasp on her body, Tarok fucked his wife with a deliberate and steady pace, and Lara loved it. She surrendered control of her body completely and let him take her to the climax.  
Her breaths grew quicker and quicker until it was clear that she was close. Tarok increased his speed. The wet slapping sound became louder and faster. When her fingers dug into his skin and she cried out into his chest, Tarok pulled her down completely, plunging his cock as deep as possible. Then he basked in the sensation of Lara’s orgasmic convulsions squeezing his cock.  
Tarok put a hand on Lara’s back and petted her shaking body while she recovered from her orgasm. Lara loved it so much, she moaned like a kitten. A very satisfied kitten.  
When she had recovered, Tarok lifted her off his cock and set her back on his lap, his cock wedged between Lara’s butt cheeks. He licked her face, his tongue swept away beads of sweat on her cheek. For Tarok, licking wasn't strictly a sexual thing. It was also his way of showing affection. Lara giggled.  
“Are you tired, after moving me like that?” Lara asked.  
“No, you’re not a big girl,” he said, stopped licking her and brushed strands of hair out of her forehead. Lara pressed her head against his palm, which made Tarok chuckled. “I carried you from the forest back to camp, remembered?” he said.  
“Even when you’re wounded. I remember,” Lara said, kissing him on the chest. “I love my big and strong husband.”  
Tarok’s cock jerked and gave Lara’s bottom a little smack.  
“You like compliments, huh?” Lara said with a giggle.  
Tarok didn’t reply. He simply put each of his palms on her ass, got off the bed, and stood up, holding her aloft in the air. Lara, shocked by his sudden movement, instinctively clutched his neck for support.  
“Release my neck, Lara,” Tarok said in a firm voice. “Trust me.”  
She did as he told. Then he lifted her up further. He curved his left hand under her butt and let his right hand hung limp. The single left hand that was supporting her entire weight didn’t shake with physical assertion, his muscles didn’t strain, and he didn’t need to lean back to balance her weight. She was already small compared to him, but when he held her aloft like this, Lara felt tiny. He grinned at her.  
“How big and strong is your husband now?”  
She completely swooned over his display of strength. Her husband was showing off, but he had the brawn to back himself up. Lara struggled to contain her breath. A new sensation flooded her mind. For the first time in her life, Lara felt horny. She wanted to be taken by her husband. She wanted to feel him inside her again. Now. Her thighs quivered from her newfound horniness.  
Lara tugged at the fur on his chest and looked at her husband. “Tarok”, she called meekly to him. Just a single soft-spoken word, but her voice expressed everything she wanted to say. And if there were any doubts, Lara’s flushed cheeks resolved them for Tarok.  
He moved his hands under her butt so that both of them were supporting her weight. He was strong but not careless, and he needed to be in full control for what about to happen next. Tarok dug his nose into her hair and sniffed. When Lara was horny, she smelled outright sexy.  
Lara sensed what he was planning to do and held onto his shoulder. He lifted her hip slightly up, then he lowered her on his erection. Her wetness from the previous orgasm let him enter and withdraw with ease. In a few short seconds, he was fucking her with a vigor Lara never knew. He thrust his pelvis in time to meet Lara’s downward hip, forming a rhythm that penetrated her as deep as he could.  
Lara cried out every time Tarok’s hard cock plunged into her, her fingered clawed and scratched his skin, which only urged Tarok to increase his speed. She could hear the deep rumbling from his chest, the growls and grunt from her lusting husband, which, when mixed with the lewd smacking of her bottom and his pelvis, gave her a delicious shudder. Lara was used to gentle lovemaking, but she loved this form of rougher sex just as much.  
When Lara’s pussy clamped down on his cock, signaling her second orgasm of the night, Tarok was still going strong and show no signs of coming. Yet, he slowed down and eventually stopped, letting her catch a break. Lara’s eyelids fluttered, her mouth opened agape to draw in air. The post-orgasmic pleasure was so great that she felt in what she later called a “delirious” state of mind. In it, all kinds of inhibitions of being the “proper lady” were swept away, the only thing in her mind then was to make Tarok happy. To do that, Lara did something that she never thought she would do: she craned her head and sucked on the swell of his masculine throat—one of his most sensitive spots.  
“Love me more,” purred Lara beneath his chin.  
Her husband was more than eager to indulge her.  
Tarok didn’t stop when Lara came the third time. Her outpouring juices coated his entire length and assaulted his nose and sent him into a frenzy. He rocked into Lara for a minute more, and with a deep, final stroke, he exploded inside Lara’s pulsing pussy. He hugged Lara as tight as possible without smothering her petite frame while his spasming cock flooded her insides. His semen poured out of their joint genitals, coated his balls, and dripped onto the floor. Tarok staggered backward and flopped on the bed, panting. With unusual difficulty, he pulled Lara off his cock and laid her down on her back. She had passed out the moment he came, but her eyelids opened again when she felt the bed underneath her.  
“I love it when you’re being naughty,” Tarok said with a smirk. He grabbed another towel and cleaned himself.  
Lara flushed. “That was…strange. I didn’t know what got into me.”  
“Well, I did, repeatedly.”  
“Tarokkkk!”  
He laughed and handed her the towel. He watched as his wife timidly wiped herself. She was once again the "prim and proper" girl. Tarok had no problem with his wife being her usual self, but he’d love to try to lure that sexy version of his wife out some other time.  
When she was done, Lara put the ruined towel under the nightstand. _One more thing to the laundry list._ When she turned around to face Tarok, he was next to her. Then he lay on his stomach and placed his head on her thighs. She felt the mild prickling of the hair of his chin and neck.  
“What are you doing?” Lara asked, giggling.  
“Just relax for a moment.”  
“Let me help you then.” Lara weaved her hands into his smooth hair and ruffled his mane. Tarok made the most satisfying “ahhh” Lara had ever heard. His head somehow sunk deeper into Lara’s creamy thighs as he closed his eyes.  
Lara burst out laughing. Tarok opened his eyes and looked at her quizzically.  
“You like this, do you?” said Lara, covering her mouth with one hand. “Your ears flicked back and forth when I scratch your head.”  
“Oh,” Tarok uttered. “I forgot I do that. The last person to scratch my head was my mother. She found it very amusing too.”  
“It’s hard not to. I mean, you look like a giant pet.”  
Indeed, Tarok, the hulking minotaur, the biggest and strongest warrior he’d ever known, was laying docilely on his wife’s lap, getting head scratches. If his men saw him now…  
But the thought didn't bother Tarok much. His men weren’t here; besides, Lara loved this sight of him, so it’s fine. In fact, a funny idea popped into his head.  
“A pet, huh?” Tarok said as he pushed himself up to the level of Lara’s face. “Sure, I could be your pet. You just have to feed, groom, and bathe me daily. Most importantly, you have to satisfy my every need. How’s that sound?”  
Lara laughed again. “That’s a lot of work. I’d rather have you as my husband.” She hugged Tarok and kissed him on the forehead.  
“If you insist,” Tarok said, slumping back to his soft cushion. Lara resumed her massage.  
“Do you want to cuddle and sleep?” Lara asked, holding back laughter as she playfully pinched one of his ears.  
“Ummm. I will, later.”  
Despite Lara’s soothing touch, Tarok’s mind was not entirely relaxed. Her cheerful laughter made him think about her, which he had been doing for the past week. Despite all the horribleness she'd gone through, Lara retained her innocent and naivete, even her childishness. It’s not her fault, she was raised a priestess, protected from the world, and was destined to lead a pleasant life among the people who respect and care for her. But the world right now was far from perfect, and she needed to learn how to survive in it. Tarok knew who would make the perfect teacher for Lara—his trusty secretary. Maybe someday she would take over the old woman’s duty. Lara wouldn’t be alone in her maturing journey, she would always find him by her side. Always.  
Another thing that’d been bugging him was Lara’s wish for children. She accepted being childless and married to him, but she could change her mind in the future. He couldn’t provide one for her, and the only person who had the knowledge to do so had died in her lair. The thought of having a child had never even crossed his mind once. But if Lara one day decided to have one, finding a parentless child in these harsh times should not be hard. He wanted Lara to be happy, so he’s willing to try.  
One thing for certain, he would announce his marriage to everyone tomorrow. No more secrets. Lara would take her rightful place next to him in public.  
“Is something on your mind, Tarok? You seem pensive,” asked Lara.  
He looked at Lara. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He yawned and closed his eyes.  
Lara nodded and continued massaging. Tarok’s satisfied hums become quieter until they stopped completely. The room was silent, except for his steady breathing.  
“Tarok?” Lara asked. No answer. Then he began snoring.  
_He’s asleep!_  
Lara stopped moving her hands. He didn’t react and kept on snoring. _She’d just put her husband to sleep. He must be so tired after the weeklong journey._  
“Good night, my dear,” Lara whispered into his ear. She decided to go to sleep, too. She lay down on the bed, held one of his hands, put it on her stomach like a pillow, and shut her eyes. Lara wondered what his reaction would be when she told him tomorrow that he owed her a cuddle. He’d probably repay her with interest.  
Lara exhaled in the dark. Her marriage started off roughly, as today had shown, but Lara was optimistic. Tarok loved her, and she loved him. That’s all she needed.  
All big changes are rough at first, but it will get better. She wanted to be better. No more crying at every problem she encountered, she must be stronger. For Tarok, for her family.  
Lara inhaled and smiled, a smile that accompanied her till morning.  
The future doesn’t seem so uncertain now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. Don't you just love happy endings?  
> Thanks to everyone who have read, commented and kudo'd. I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. I will be back with a new story some time in the future. See you soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. More chapters are coming every week. If you like this, please leave a comment below. It really helps me going.  
> I swear this story has an ending, and you will see it. No readers left hanging!


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